Red Tiled Roofs
by Maegfen
Summary: It started, as many things tended to do in their profession, with a murder. A puzzling case starts a chain of events that no one at the CBI envisaged. Case fic with some Jane/ Lisbon thrown in for good measure.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** It started, as many things tended to do in their profession, with a murder. A puzzling case starts a chain of events that no one at the CBI envisaged. Case fic with some Jane/ Lisbon UST thrown in for good measure.

**Disclaimer:** The Mentalist doesn't belong to me, unfortunately.

**Warnings:** Some graphic descriptions, naughty words and dirty thoughts.

**Spoilers:** No major ones, but I would probably say this is set before the end of Season 3 so spoilers for who's in charge etc. And I guess therefore maybe it's a little AU…

**Authors note: **First off, a massive thank you to all who read and reviewed my last story; it gave me a lot of encouragement to carry on with this writing bug I appear to have caught.

This one's a bit different, more case based than my first one with a little bit more plot. Just trying to flex my writing muscles to see what occurs! I've tried to go for a bit of humour, a bit of UST (but that may well change!) and I've also tried to compose an intriguing case that you won't all guess the plot to in the first 5 minutes. I may or may not have succeeded with any of these ;) I've got the first couple of chapters written and most of this plotted out(ish), so hopefully I should find writing the rest of it relatively easy (famous last words!) I have _no_ idea how long this will end up though!

Hope you enjoy and as always, any feedback is greatly appreciated.

Title inspired by a quote by Kevin Starr – "Red-tiled roofs glowing carmine in the sunset."

* * *

It started, as many things tended to do in their profession, with a murder. A young boy, only 13, had been killed by what appeared to be blunt force trauma, his body lying face down in a small, deserted parking lot at the back of a local movie theatre that had been shut for the last 2 weeks due to a long term refurbishment project. Lisbon stood just inside the police cordon, hands on hips, surveying the scene. Her team had headed off a couple of minutes before, each member determined to find some clues that would help solve the brutal murder.

Rigsby and Van Pelt were currently talking to the group of teenagers who had found the body while Cho was attempting to track down any security personnel for the building who might have been a witness, or who could provide him with some CCTV footage from the nearby camera. Jane had immediately wandered off, in typical Jane fashion, not bothering to give her an explanation of what he was up to. Which was par for the course for him really. She spotted him heading away from the main crime scene, and hoped that he wouldn't piss anyone off in the 5 minutes she needed to collect information. She didn't really want to be dealing with consultant related paperwork this early in the case.

She could see the coroner and forensics teams working around the body; making notes, taking photos and collecting evidence. The victim had a small pool of blood around his head, almost like a twisted halo, but apart from that, the victim could have just been asleep. It just wasn't right. Lisbon was determined to find out who could have been malicious enough to end the life of this poor, young boy. She looked around, hoping to find the man she needed to talk to, and spotted him almost immediately.

She wandered over to her target, the local sheriff who had called them in; Keller, he had called himself on the phone. The sheriff, tall, balding and about 50 pounds overweight for a man his height, took off his hat and wiped his forehead with his sleeve as she approached. The summer heat was causing Lisbon's shirt to cling uncomfortably to her back and she glared at the man who was currently peering underneath a half open dumpster at the far end of the abandoned lot.

Patrick Jane was, as always, wearing his three-piece suit; vest clear under the jacket and Lisbon really couldn't believe that the man was anything but uncomfortable in the days heat. The man himself, however, appeared unfazed as he shifted his vision from underneath the dumpster to the top.

Lisbon eventually reached Keller's side and acknowledged him with a handshake and a polite greeting as she arrived. They exchanged brief pleasantries before Lisbon got down to business. She hated cases with kids, and she had a feeling this one would be no different.

"Have you got an ID?" She asked as she took a small notebook from her pocket.

"Yes ma'am. The victim is Liam McKenzie; 13, youngest boy to Derek and Paula McKenzie." The ease with which the Sheriff had reeled off the information signalled to Lisbon that there was a familiarity to the victim and his family.

"Did you know him?" Lisbon asked, catching movement in the corner of her eye as Jane attempted to climb _**onto**_ the dumpster. She ignored him and concentrated on gathering more important information from the man in front of her.

"Yes ma'am. The McKenzie's are a big family around here; handle most of the real estate, pretty much responsible for making this place what it is. Liam was a bit of a nuisance. Smart, but a nuisance. Always following his brother Andrew, he's 19, and his friends around, getting into mischief. You know," he paused, shrugging, "kids' stuff."

"Mischief?" Lisbon queried, pointedly ignoring the fact that Jane was now balancing precariously on top of the dumpster and appeared to be trying to reach the fire escape above it.

"Usual small town stuff," Keller replied, "occasional vandalism, broken windows and the like. Couple of nuisance calls to some of the more elderly folk in town. Lots of graffiti though. Liam was a talented kid. Great artist, lots of nice ideas and images. Not many people appreciated seeing it on the side of the town hall though!" The sheriff smiled slightly, obviously remembering the tale with a sort of fondness, before he appeared to come to his senses. "We cautioned him a couple of times, made him do some community service, that kind of thing. But he knew that if he put another foot wrong he'd end up with a record, even if it was only a juvenile one. He'd been quiet the last few weeks, staying out of trouble, and now, well…" He paused, and turned slightly to look at the body of the poor young boy, his shoulders seeming to slump slightly at the sight.

Lisbon nodded, made a quick note of the information and then prepared herself to ask another question. There was a loud crash to their side and a weak "I'm ok!" but she ignored that too.

"If you wouldn't mind Sheriff, is there any chance you can pass on an address for the McKenzie's to my colleague Agent Cho? We'll want to talk to them in the near future about Liam. See if we can find out who did this." She pointed to the determined looking man approaching the dumpster, which by now was surrounded by Van Pelt, Rigsby and a couple of teenagers with their cell phones out. Lisbon turned back to Keller, who nodded and frowned, following her gaze to the dumpster.

"No problem Agent Lisbon. Do you want me to…" he waved vaguely in the area of the dumpster.

"No, it's ok, I've got it. Apparently the CBI toddler has escaped from his cot and has got himself into trouble." She rolled her eyes and wandered over to the dumpster, knowing full well that she was not going to be impressed with what she saw. She nudged Rigsby out of the way and peered over the edge of the receptacle, catching a whiff of putrid, gone off food and some other less than savoury items. Looking back up at her, a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye was her ever present, headache inducing consultant.

"Hey Lisbon, nice to see you!" Noticing he was about to get his head bitten off Jane held up a finger to silence her. "Ah ah ah, before you get mad, I've been very helpful while you were talking to our good old sheriff over there. Look" he paused for dramatic effect, "I found the murder weapon!"

His grin widened at her frown and pointed to his left, where a bloodied baseball bat lay, nestled in between a bag full of what looked like fish heads and a takeaway tray of old Chinese.

Lisbon just sighed, rolled her eyes again and walked off, yelling as she went, "Rigsby, Cho, get him out of there and process the evidence, including his clothes. He could have picked up some residual material from the dumpster. And whatever you do, don't let him back in the SUV!"

All she could hear as she wandered back towards the car was the faint call of Jane, muffled slightly by his current holding cell: "Lisbon, how am I supposed to get back? You drove me here! I'll have to walk! Or get a bus! And what about my clothes? I haven't fallen in any residual anything. Apart from maybe that, but I don't know what that is apart from gross and smelly. Lisbon? Lisbon!"

Lisbon smiled to herself and went to find some coffee. She had a feeling she'd be needing it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary:** The chapter in which the team start to focus on the case and Lisbon seems to focus on something else entirely.

**Disclaimer:** The Mentalist doesn't belong to me, unfortunately.

**Warnings:** Some graphic descriptions, naughty words and dirty thoughts.

**Spoilers:** No major ones, but I would probably say this is set before the end of Season 3 so spoilers for who's in charge etc. And I guess therefore it's a little AU…

**Authors note: **Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed/ favourited/ followed this based solely on the last chapter. I can only hope the rest of the story lives up to all your high expectations! I think I'm going to take my time developing this one; I really want to see if I can create an interesting case-based story as well as try and fit in some more, shall we say interesting, moments between our favourite couple ;) I will try and keep time between updates as short as possible!

Unbetaed, so all mistakes are mine! Hope you enjoy…

* * *

Jane was nothing if not able to turn an embarrassing situation on its head. He had been temporarily humiliated on his return to headquarters, with people peering round corners hoping to catch sight of the usually dapperly-dressed Patrick Jane clad only in CBI issue sweat pants and tight-fitting t-shirt, his ever-present leather shoes replaced by a pair of plain black sneakers. While his attire had certainly raised a few eyebrows (especially those of the female members of the CBI, Lisbon included), Jane had been his usual self and managed to play the whole thing off as a joke.

"Really," he was heard to say to a small group of very attentive female agents in the break room a few minutes after his arrival, "you should have seen the speed in which **someone** demanded that I be stripped of all clothing. I won't mention any names, but let's just say it's a feisty female agent who was very eager to… Oh hello Lisbon, didn't see you there!" Jane smirked as the agent in question rounded the corner, fully intending to get herself another coffee.

Lisbon had partially heard the conversation and was not going to give her wily consultant any opportunity to play this incident to his advantage. Honestly, if you gave the man an inch…

"Jane! Still regaling everyone with your pointless stories from this morning I see. Have you mentioned to these ladies that the only reason you needed to strip was because you used all of your grace and guile to fall into a dumpster, land in who-knows-what, and potentially ruin critical evidence at a crime scene? Or was that bit coming up?"

She glared at him, trying not to notice just how nicely the t-shirt seemed to fit him, or process the fact that he had clearly been secretly using some sort of exercise equipment to get toned arm muscles like that or… Lisbon shook her head, urging her mind to make those kind of thoughts go away and briskly turned around to the retrieve her mug from the cupboard. Stupid Jane and his stupid clothes.

Jane just carried on as if he hadn't noticed that Lisbon had blatantly been checking him out while she looked for her favourite coffee mug. If the woman had been trying to go for subtle, she'd been_ really _off the mark. It was certainly an interesting turn of events...

"That part was next actually. And I didn't fall in. I slipped. Kind of. It was very dramatic; I hurt my arm!" He showed the gaggle of agents the small wrapping that Van Pelt had applied to a scratch he had received on his way into the dumpster. Lisbon could have sworn one even went 'ah' as if looking at a small kitten. She rolled her eyes. Really, they were so pathetic _swooning_ over Jane in such a manner.

"Oh please, I'll do more damage than that with my stapler and a hole-punch if you don't get on with some actual work. We do have a case you know. So I suggest, agents," she said, turning to the group of women, many of whom now looked incredibly guilty at being caught up in Jane's tales, "that you let this _**poor, injured man **_be and return to your own desks. And you," she turned and pointed at Jane,"go and read over the file, we'll be heading out to see the McKenzie's in the next hour or so."

Jane merely nodded, winked slyly at her while murmuring "yes ma'am" and wandered out of the kitchenette.

Twenty minutes later, after drinking her coffee and eating a bagel that in her mind qualified as a filling lunch, Lisbon noticed that Jane was indeed reading through the McKenzie file, but had also found time to change into his more familiar choice of clothing. His hair was slightly damp so he must have had a very quick shower somewhere as well. She raised an eyebrow and was on the verge of asking where he had got the suit when, using that damn psychic ability he claimed not to have, he spoke, not even looking up at her. Damn him.

"I keep a spare in the attic. Never know when a suspect's going to punch me in the nose for no reason and get blood all over me." His eyes flicked briefly up to hers, and he smiled smugly, before returning his attention to the file.

Lisbon just huffed slightly and disappeared into her office, leaving the door open. She knew it was a pointless endeavour to close it as Jane would inevitably wander in in about 30 seconds anyway.

Exactly 27 seconds later, the aforementioned man did indeed make his presence known in her office, once again not bothering to knock as he waltzed in as if he owned the place. Lisbon afforded herself a little smirk at his predictability. Jane said nothing, just put his cup of tea on the table and lay down on her couch, propping the McKenzie file up on his stomach.

"Yes Jane. Come in Jane. Make yourself at home Jane." She muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes at him as he just waved a hand slightly dismissively at her.

They settled down into a comfortable silence, the two of them each reading their respective files to see if there was anything that might give them a hint of why Liam McKenzie had been a victim of such a brutal crime.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the window and Rigsby poked his head round. He didn't even take a second glance at Jane relaxing on the Boss' couch, a cup of tea steaming slightly on the table next to him. It happened so often that he would have been more concerned if the consultant _**hadn't**_ been there. It was all a bit domestic Rigsby thought, trying to hide a grin.

"Hey Boss, Jane," he said, wandering into the office as Lisbon waved him in.

"What have you got Rigsby?" Lisbon asked, looking up at him, noticing the file held in the taller agent's hands.

"Couple of things. The kids at the scene weren't able to give us any extra information and Cho's just called to say that there was no security on site this morning plus the CCTV footage is a non-starter. Apparently it's a dummy system installed by the owners last month."

Lisbon sighed in frustration. "Damn it."

"Yeah, it sucks, would have really helped us out," Rigsby noted before continuing.

"Anyway, forensics are checking for prints on the murder weapon and trying to find any trace evidence while the coroner puts the time of death at about 8:30am this morning." He paused, looking at Lisbon as she nodded. Jane had, in the meantime, put his file down on the floor and had his eyes closed, taking in everything that Rigsby was saying.

"The local police did find something interesting right at the back of the lot after we left though. They sent through some pictures for us," Rigsby continued. He handed over a few photos, which Lisbon took, holding them in front of her. Jane seemed to perk up at the mention of the pictures and quickly moved to stand behind Lisbon, peering over her shoulder to look at the new pieces of evidence.

The first photo showed a small canvas bag that was unzipped, filled with what looked like cans. Another showed a close up of a single white can, which Lisbon noticed had a dark blue cap.

"Spray paint," Rigsby clarified, motioning towards the photo. "Seems like Liam was still vandalising places, despite the warnings from Sheriff Keller about getting a record. Also, you can tell he was disturbed from whatever he was doing; that can," he said, pointing to photo of the dark blue spray paint, "had rolled under a nearby dumpster. He must have dropped it when he was attacked. Although it doesn't explain why his body wasn't found right next to the bag," he noted.

Lisbon nodded and turned to the next photo as he spoke, and almost gasped as Jane leaned closer, his breath suddenly hot in her ear. He had leaned around the back of her chair, his hand reaching out to rest on hers as he silently asked her to hold the picture still. He was studying the photo intently, and probably had no idea what effect he was having on her. He hummed, the sound low and seductive in her ear. He was clearly thinking things over in his brain, and he probably didn't even realise he was making a sound.

Lisbon tried to concentrate on the photo in front of her, pointedly trying to ignore the warmth of his palm on the back of her hand or the tickling of her hair on her neck as he breathed. She sat frozen, staring blankly at the picture, not entirely sure what to do or what to think. Was Jane purposefully messing with her, a sort of revenge for the whole incident at the crime scene? Or was he trying to test the boundaries of their relationship again, seeing how far he could push her before she snapped? Whatever he was doing, it was distracting and definitely needed to stop. Right now.

She heard a cough and looked up, startled. Rigsby was looking decidedly awkward, as if intruding on an incredibly private moment between his boss and the consultant. Lisbon blinked up at him, realised what the two of them must look like and nudged Jane sharply with her elbow. The consultant practically growled in her ear, as if irritated by the interruption, and rose to his full height, slowly releasing Lisbon's hand (not before, she noticed, rubbing her wrist slightly with his thumb) and leaning back on the filing cabinets behind Lisbon's desk.

"I don't think he was vandalising anything," Jane started, motioning to Lisbon, who had turned around to face him, to hand him the photos. She looked at him with a confused frown on her face. Apparently he seemed completely unaffected by the whole hand-holding incident; treating the whole thing as if it was nothing, as opposed to the big warning sign flashing "caution, caution, dangerous road ahead!" that it clearly was. God, he was such an ass.

Jane just ignored her and selected the final photo they had viewed, casually throwing the others onto the desk. He walked slowly around the table so that both Rigsby and Lisbon could see as he held up the photo.

"What do you see here Rigsby?" He asked, looking at the other man. Rigsby peered at the photo.

"Er, something that looks like a car. Maybe. Or a train. I can't tell; it just looks like a bit of a mess."

"An interesting analysis there Rigsby. Don't give up the day job to join the profession of art critiquing will you?" Rigsby just rolled his eyes at the consultant, used to the teasing after over 6 years of working with him.

"Lisbon? Your opinion?" Jane held the photo out to her to have a closer look. She did so.

"Rigsby's right, it does look like a bit of a mess." Lisbon answered after carefully scrutinising the evidence for several seconds. She really couldn't see anything of significance in the photo. All she could make out was lots of dark blue paint sprayed on the lot wall, with a couple of patches of yellow around the edge.

"Honestly, some detectives you are! Look closer Lisbon. Try and see the outlines."

She peered more intently at the photo, trying to see whatever it was that Jane had spotted. Nothing, nothing, and then…

"Oh, oh! I see it!" She looked up at Jane, who seemed delighted, a grin spreading on his face. Rigsby just looked confused.

"It's a boat. A yacht I think. You can see the lines for the sails and the dark blue is the base for the sea underneath it."

"Correct. 10 points to Teresa Lisbon!" Jane smiled again and quickly snatched the photo from Lisbon's hand. Rigsby was still confused.

"But how does this," Rigsby said, waving in the direction of the photo, "prove that Liam wasn't vandalising the wall?"

"Well, it's clear that this was a big project. Liam would have had to plan it, draw the design out carefully. It's too big for a traditional graffiti 'tag', even for someone with Liam's skill. No, I think someone appreciated Liam's talent as an artist and gave him an outlet. A way to create something that people would see and admire without getting him into trouble."

Lisbon nodded, processing Jane's analysis of the evidence.

"It makes sense." She said, looking between the two men in front of her. "From what I've seen of Liam's other work in the file, it was smaller and always seemed slightly rushed. We'll ask the parents when we visit if they knew what Liam was up to and why. Could help us figure out what was going on."

"An excellent plan Lisbon. Shall we head off now? I've got a feeling that a trip to the McKenzie's house could prove very useful."

"Yeah, let's go. It's not too far a drive, and hopefully Sheriff Keller will have informed the family of the news by now, so they'll be ready to answer a few questions." She turned to look at the other man, "Rigsby, keep on top of any information coming in from forensics. Call me if something comes up that I need to discuss with the McKenzie's. Tell Van Pelt to look at the McKenzie's financials, see if anything is amiss and have Cho try and track down any other potential witnesses. Someone must have seen something." As she spoke, Lisbon rose and fished her keys out of the desk drawer, and headed out of her office. Jane and Rigsby followed obediently, with the latter staying behind in the bullpen as she and the Jane made their way over to the elevators.

She hoped that the McKenzie's would be able to provide some information as to why Liam was on his own in the lot that morning, as well as giving them any ideas about who might have wanted to hurt him. It seemed strange to think that a 13 year old boy could have had enemies, but in this day and age, you never knew.

Jane was silent as they waited for the elevators arrival. Lisbon noted that he seemed deep in thought, as if trying to process all the pieces of information he had gathered so far and was making an effort to get them to fit like a jigsaw. She knew, however, that it was probably a little too early in the case for him to be able to make any outlandish accusations, or run some kind of off-the-wall scheme. Which was good. It meant she was less likely to have to punch him before she went home for the evening…


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary:** The chapter in which Jane and Lisbon talk about stuff and details emerge about why Liam McKenzie was in the parking lot before his death.

**Disclaimer:** The Mentalist doesn't belong to me, unfortunately.

**Warnings:** Some graphic descriptions, naughty words and dirty thoughts.

**Spoilers:** No major ones, but I would probably say this is set before the end of Season 3 so spoilers for who's in charge etc. And I guess therefore it's a little AU…

**Authors note: **Thanks again to everyone who is reading, reviewing, favouriting and following, it really means a lot. I realise the pace is slow, but I don't seem to be able to rush through the plot, sorry! As always, this is unbetaed, so any mistakes are mine and mine alone! Hope you enjoy…

* * *

Lisbon parked the SUV neatly against the sidewalk outside the McKenzie house and carefully switched off the engine. The victim's family lived about a mile and a half from the crime scene, at the end of a row of picturesque houses. It was a nice neighbourhood she noted as she exited the car and moved to the front of the vehicle. Each house was styled slightly differently from its neighbour with enough continuity of features to ensure that none of the properties stood out like a sore thumb. They were all modern, but had a classic feel about them. It really was a lovely place, Lisbon thought. It was such a shame that the tragedy of a young boy's death had reached this little idyllic part of the world.

Lisbon hated this part of the job. While the days had long since passed where she was the designated beat cop tasked with delivering bad news, she still found it hard to talk to members of a victim's family when the grief was so fresh. It took her back to the fateful day when she was 12 and a knock on the door had awoken her and her brothers late at night. She remembered the tall cop speaking quietly to her father. Remembered watching as he broke down and collapsed against the wall, the tears soaking his top. Remembered watching the strongest man she had known start on the slippery slope that had eventually led to a dependence on alcohol and his own premature death. Yes, she hated this part the most.

She didn't realise that Jane was talking to her until he took her elbow gently, causing her to focus all her attention solely on him.

"Lisbon? You ok? Thought I'd lost you there for a minute." Jane's tone was jovial, but she could see the look of concern in his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking. I hate this part of the job. I hate seeing people so soon after they lose someone; it always feels like I'm intruding. Grief is such a private thing; no one should have to be questioned so soon afterwards." She looked up at him then, searching his eyes for the flash of understanding.

He nodded at her and stuffed his hands into his jacket pocket. He didn't look at her, just stared blankly at the window of the car.

"I remember when I lost… when he…" he paused, trying to compose himself. He clearly hadn't expected this topic of conversation to come up. He took a deep breath before continuing. "After that night, I remember just wanting to be on my own, never wanting to talk to anyone ever again. My heart had been ripped out and I wanted to do so many things: shout, scream, grieve, process. And then all of a sudden the police were there asking questions and wanting statements. I don't remember much after they arrived, but I do recall that I wasn't given space to take everything in, to start grieving. I don't think I even processed anything until my visit to… well, you know how the rest of the story goes."

He turned to look at her then, a small, sombre smile on his face. Lisbon returned the smile, and reached out to gently squeeze his arm. Jane rarely spoke about his family, and she never felt like it was her place to push. She was glad he had decided to share something with her, it made her realise that he trusted her enough to let her in. Maybe not completely, but enough so that she could maybe try and help him in the future when it seemed like he was drowning in guilt or in over his head with plots of revenge.

They had started wandering towards the house, and they paused as they reached the top of the small set of stairs at the front of the building. She looked up at the McKenzie's front door, hesitating slightly before turning her head to look at the man beside her.

"You ready?" she asked.

"Yeah, let's go," he replied, standing slightly behind her so she could introduce herself to the victim's family before himself.

"Lisbon?" He said, nudging her arm, as she reached up to press the doorbell.

"Yeah?" She looked up at him, a questioning look on her face.

"Thanks." He reached round her and knocked on the door before she had a chance to reply.

* * *

The conversation with Derek and Paula McKenzie had so far revealed little of use. They were still in denial, still couldn't believe that their little boy had been taken away from them and Lisbon was finding it difficult to get anything from them. She could tell they were finding it difficult to process what had happened. She had seen it so many times before.

"Mrs McKenzie," Lisbon started, hoping to garner some useful information. "I was wondering if you knew why Liam was in that lot this morning on his own."

The distraught woman in front of her nodded, her tears leaving glistening trails down her cheeks. Paula McKenzie looked as if she had probably aged 20 years in the last 5 hours, as if her world had fallen out from underneath her. Lisbon thought it probably had. She didn't even want to contemplate how she would deal with losing a child; had seen the effect such a horrific event had had on many people, including Jane. No parent should ever outlive their child.

The victim's mother took a long, shuddering breath and answered Lisbon's question.

"He was there to start on his project. We dropped him off ourselves on the way to work. He was due to meet Jacob Macken there at 9:00 to start working on it. Macken's the theatre manager," she said, to clarify, clearly spotting Lisbon's confused look at the mention of the unfamiliar name. "He was the one who hired Liam for the mural."

"Mural?" Jane interjected. He was sat on Lisbon's left, a cup of tea in his hand. He had spent a few minutes looking around the lounge, gazing at family photos and looking over the selection of books in the corner, but had joined her on the couch when Mrs McKenzie had arrived with a cup of Earl Grey for him and a coffee for Lisbon.

"Yeah, we were so proud." Derek McKenzie answered. Liam's father was tall, well-built and gave off the impression of someone who was incredibly successful but equally modest. He sat next to his wife, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder as she started to sob softly. "We'd always known that Liam was a talented artist. Every teacher since kindergarten had been telling us about it, and we could see it every time he put pencil to paper. Mr Macken had seen Liam's _work_," he chuckled slightly, "on the side of the town hall. Said he thought he had great potential and believed that Liam would be the perfect artist to create a mural for the movie theatre. Macken's renovating it, trying to bring in more customers, you know."

"So why was Liam there so early if he wasn't meeting Macken until 9?" Lisbon asked, jotting a couple of notes down in her notepad.

"He told us that he wanted to have a look around the lot again, to see where the mural would be going. He'd already spoken to Macken about it, had designed everything and Macken had approved. He said he wanted to maybe make a start, just some outlines and bases. We were going to head back during our lunch break to see how he was getting on and Andrew was…" Paula McKenzie started to cry again. "Andrew was supposed to meet him at about 9:30, to help out his little brother. But he was caught in traffic and was running late. He called us to say that he probably wouldn't be able to get there. Liam was a good boy; we trusted him on his own. He knew to call us straight away if there was a problem. I know 13 seems young, but he and Andrew have always been so grown up and responsible. Especially after they took responsibility for the times they'd been caught making a nuisance of themselves around town. They'd both turned a new leaf, wanted to help the community rather than hinder it."

"Where was Andrew coming from this morning when he called you?"

"He's got a job as a worker on a construction site about 6 miles from town. Leaves early and comes home late. But his boss had given him most of the day off so he could help out, providing he made up the time later on. He'd gone over at 6 I think; wanted to get a few hours in before he came over to help Liam. He was headed back from there when he called us. There'd been a big pile up on one of the back routes into town; he'd had to take a detour to get back." Derek McKenzie shook his head, as if trying to will some bad thoughts away.

Lisbon looked at the McKenzie's with sympathy. "Mr McKenzie, where is Andrew now? We'd like to have a word with him, get a statement about this morning."

"He said he was going for a drive earlier. Just before you arrived in fact. I think he's trying to process everything that's happened. He and Liam were very close, you couldn't tell there was six years between them. And I think he feels guilty that he wasn't there to help Liam, but it wasn't his fault. He couldn't have known. None of us could have known. I just wished we'd stayed with him until Macken arrived. I can't believe we left him on his own." Paula McKenzie's sobs echoed around the lounge once more, and Lisbon knew that she and her husband would struggle to live with the guilt of leaving Liam by himself for the rest of their lives. She only hoped that they were strong enough to work through it together.

"We'll need Andrew to give us a call when he gets back. Just to talk things over, see if he can think of anything that might help us find who did this." Lisbon said softly as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it over carefully to Mr McKenzie. He nodded.

"I'll get him to contact you as soon he can."

Lisbon was quiet for a second before speaking once more. She knew the time was approaching for them to leave, she and Jane had delayed them from confronting their grief for long enough.

"We just have a couple more questions for you Mr and Mrs McKenzie, then we'll leave you in peace." Lisbon told them, and continued when both of them nodded. "Do you know of anyone who might have wanted to hurt Liam?"

Derek McKenzie looked thoughtful for a moment before he answered. "No, I really can't. Yeah, Liam used to get into trouble, but never with gangs or drugs or anything like that. Just his graffiti, and he had stopped all that when Jacob Macken gave him this project. He never mentioned any bullying, either in school or out of it."

Lisbon wrote down the information, and made a note to herself to check if Liam's teacher or friends had noticed if he had been the victim of any kind of bullying. It was worth following up on.

She looked towards Jane, who had remained silent for the better part of 10 minutes. She knew, however, that his brain had not been idle, nor had he been ignoring anything that was being said. The opposite was likely to be the case, she knew. He would have been watching the parents carefully, looking for any signs of deceit or deception that would help in the investigation. The fact that he had remained silent meant that he had not heard or seen anything that made him suspicious of anything Derek and Paula McKenzie had told them.

"Jane, got any further questions?" Lisbon looked at the consultant.

"Yeah, just one I think. Mrs McKenzie, do you have a copy of Liam's final design for the mural?" Jane inquired, looking at the broken woman in front of him.

"Yes, we do. He was proud of the design, told us it was the best thing he had ever drawn, so we made an extra copy and hung it in his room. We'll show you up." Liam's mother stood, followed quickly by her husband. They headed out of the living room and towards the stairs. Mr McKenzie led the way, with the others trailing behind him. He stopped outside of a closed white door, a small graffiti style tag painted on the wood proclaiming the room to belong to 'Liam'. Liam's father carefully opened the door and motioned for Jane and Lisbon to enter.

Lisbon wandered in first and froze almost as soon as she passed the threshold. She felt Jane stop right behind her. The room was covered in paintings and drawings, almost from floor to ceiling. The McKenzie's hadn't been wrong when they'd said that Liam had been a talented artist, Lisbon noted. The work she could see was beautiful, reflected in the mixture of paintings and pencil sketches that covered the walls. She watched as Jane headed towards a set of drawings above the desk in the far corner. She joined him, and noticed that they were pencil drawings of different landscapes; mountains, beaches, forests. All the pictures were filled with intricate details and amazing designs.

"Liam loved to draw different things in nature," Paula McKenzie supplied from the doorway, her eyes reflecting a look of pride and deep loss. "He said he could just close his eyes and imagine what he wanted to draw, could pretend he was in a clearing or by a stream, then he could just open his eyes and recreate it, as if copying from a photo."

"His work is beautiful Mrs McKenzie," Lisbon said, not really knowing what else to say.

"Is this the design for the mural?" Jane asked, pointing at a framed work next to the bed.

"Yes. He'd always liked sailing, and he loved yachts. When Macken asked him to design something for the High Tide theatre he said he wanted to draw a yacht at sea. So he did."

"It's certainly a fitting design," Jane remarked, looking at the picture again. "It would have looked stunning on the outside of the theatre; inspiring."

The room lapsed into silence, and Lisbon took that as their cue to leave. They shook the McKenzie's hands, said they were sorry for their loss once more and let  
them to grieve for their lost son.

* * *

Lisbon took one final look up and down the block before she went to head back into the SUV. Jane was still at her side, hovering slightly by the passenger side door. _They really were lovely houses_, she thought. It was definitely a nice neighbourhood, and Lisbon slightly envied those who could afford to make their homes here.

"Thinking of selling up and relocating Lisbon?" Jane came to stand next to her, noting the wistful look in her eyes. It seems that their earlier conversation they had had in almost the exact same spot had been put to the back of his mind; the mocking and teasing Patrick Jane had returned. She knew he was trying to lighten the mood after the heart-breaking atmosphere inside the McKenzie's house and she appreciated the effort.

"I wish! I can't imagine how much one of these sells for. On my salary I'd be lucky to afford a garage around here, let alone a house!"

"Ah, there's no harm in dreaming Lisbon. I mean, look at this one..." Instead of just pointing at the house he'd focused his attention on, he decided to put his arm around her shoulder and swivel them both around, so that they were facing a small townhouse on the opposite side of the road. Clearly one he had spotted as they had pulled up outside the McKenzie place. His arm didn't release its hold on her as they faced the house; instead he kept it there and gently squeezed her shoulder. Lisbon thought that if anyone had been watching them at that moment, they wouldn't have seen two people from the CBI, but a couple looking for a property together.

"It's the perfect type of house for you. Small enough to maintain, a large enough garden to relax in but small enough to keep in check and it even has a white picket fence!" He seemed genuinely enthusiastic about the house in front of them. Then, as quickly as he had held her shoulder, he released it, turning back around. "Come on; let's go back to the CBI. I need a cup of tea and my couch." And off he marched towards the car door, obviously not giving his bizarre actions a second thought.

Lisbon stood and stared after him, not knowing whether she was coming or going. Really, the man was sending out some strange signals. Did he think she should move? That she even wanted to? Why had he thought about her buying a house? Especially one that suited a family rather than a career driven single woman. Although, she thought, the one he had pointed out _was_ beautiful, and it did have a nice garden, and it would have been a perfect little family home to share with someone but...

It was just a shame she didn't have anyone in her life right now. Or was really likely to in the future to be honest. Not unless they could put up with her crazy working hours and her workaholic tendencies. Or come to terms with the fact that she didn't like talking to anyone before she'd had at least one cup of coffee and occasionally a bear claw from Marie's in the morning. Plus, any man she dated would have to realise that she was fiercely independent and that she wouldn't appreciate being treated like a fragile little woman, or she'd kick him to the curb so quickly he wouldn't realise what had happened.

And even _more_ importantly, her potential suitor would have to understand that most of her time was spent in the company of a very charming, very handsome man who had no qualms about invading her personal space at regular intervals. Which was probably a deal breaker in her eyes. Because she didn't think that _any_ man would be able to grasp quite _why_ she kept Jane around, unless there was something going on between them. Which there wasn't. No matter how often he picked out perfect houses for her, or gave her flowers, or bought her a pony or caused her heart to hammer in her chest every time he touched her. In fact, Lisbon belatedly realised, it seemed that the only man in the world who would likely understand her well enough to put up with her, and by extension Jane, was Jane himself. _Shit._

Jane had clearly ruined every potential relationship for her, even before they'd begun. And she bet her life that he knew it as much as her. Damn him.

She sighed, deciding that this particular train of thought was best left for when she had a tub of Phish Food and a glass of red wine. She did not need thoughts of her and Jane in a relationship running through her head when trying to solve a murder. Way too distracting and way too close to dangerous territory.

Judging by the smug little look Jane had on his face as she got into the car, he had probably figured out what she was thinking about and was finding great pleasure in pushing all her buttons, without even having to say anything. Lisbon just rolled her eyes, determined to ignore him, and put the car into gear…


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary: **The chapter in which we get Jane's side of the story, and the Liam McKenzie case takes an interesting turn…

**Disclaimer:** The Mentalist doesn't belong to me, unfortunately.

**Warnings:** Some graphic descriptions, naughty words and dirty thoughts.

**Spoilers:** No major ones, but I would probably say this is set before the end of Season 3 so spoilers for who's in charge etc. And I guess therefore it's a little AU…

**Authors note: **Thanks once again to everyone who is reading, reviewing, favouriting and following, it's giving me a lot of encouragement to sit down and try and write something every night when I get home from work; something I've not been inclined to do before! All mistakes are my own, and if you enjoy (or even if you don't) feel free to leave me a review. Seeing a new message never fails to put a massive smile on my face :)

* * *

Jane ambled into the break room as soon as they arrived back at CBI, determined to make himself a cup of tea before heading back to join Lisbon and the others in the bullpen.

She had ignored him the entire drive back from the McKenzie's house, clearly annoyed with him even without him having said a word. He grinned to himself as he poured some water into the kettle.

Given her slightly panicked look she'd flashed at him as she'd re-entered the car outside the McKenzie's house, his very subtle suggestion that she should maybe think about finding someone and settling down had clearly lodged in her brain. And apparently her subconscious had, at least once, offered him as a suitable partner. Well, that was certainly a turnout for the books.

Jane thought about his and Lisbon's interactions over the last 8 hours. While he had purposefully manufactured the incident with the photos in her office as a mild revenge for humiliating him at the crime scene, his attitude had changed completely once he'd realised that she had frozen and appeared to be having a hard time concentrating on anything but him.

Her reaction had thrown him for a loop. He'd been hoping to make her uncomfortable, not aroused.

Did Teresa Lisbon, _his_ Teresa Lisbon; tough CBI agent, stubbornly independent and 'grumpy in the morning until she'd had coffee' Teresa Lisbon, want him? It had been a surprising revelation to him, and one that he had immediately become completely and utterly obsessed with. His mind had automatically started plotting ways for him to test this new theory.

So he'd hummed in her ear. No particular tune, just something melodic and low and quite seductive if he did say so himself. He'd been extremely delighted to notice that her breath had hitched slightly almost immediately, her chest (which he was watching closely as he feigned looking at the photo; he was a man, sue him) stilling as the low sound from his throat reached her ears from millimetres away. The moment had been glorious, the atmosphere positively sparking with tension. Jane had felt something shift in that moment. He just wasn't entirely sure what it was. Which, for someone as observant as he, was actually quite annoying. His new discovery had definitely required further investigation.

Evidence backing his new theory continued to emerge as he'd felt her pulse when he released her hand. Her heart must have been hammering in her chest. He's been slightly startled to realise that his own had been doing the same. Which really _was_ interesting, seeing as he was pretty sure his body hadn't ever reacted that way to touching her before.

Then Rigsby had coughed, the moment had ended and he was fairly certain he'd actually growled at her for breaking the contact. Like some sort of possessive mate. That _really_ hadn't been part of the plan at all.

He had then spent the majority of the short drive to the McKenzie's house surreptitiously watching Lisbon out of the corner of his eye. She had had a determined look on her face, and he knew she wanted desperately to find out who had caused the death of the young boy. As they'd pulled up he'd realised that it was the kind of neighbourhood that he could see Lisbon settling down in, a small family in tow. In fact, there was one particular house, almost opposite the McKenzie's, that had seemed perfect. He'd been staring out of the passenger window when he'd seen it; modern but classic, a beautiful garden out front and a small white picket fence surrounding it. He'd wanted to point it out to her straight away, thinking of using it as another opportunity to test whatever the hell this new thing between them was. But then the conversation had turned more sombre, and the enthusiasm at seeing a pretty house that could have been her ideal home was quickly forgotten.

He'd let her in during that conversation outside the McKenzie house, trusting her enough to give her a little insight into his painful past, and he'd offered her all the support he could as they'd tried to gather any pertinent information about Liam and his whereabouts that morning from the victim's parents.

Jane moved to gather his tea cup and saucer from the cupboard, and wondered briefly if there were any bear claws left from the run he'd done this morning before the McKenzie case had been called in. He figured that Lisbon had only had coffee and a bagel for lunch and was probably feeling a bit peckish by now. He rummaged through the cupboards and the fridge, but there were no pastries to be found, and Jane silently cursed himself for leaving the tell-tale bag within Rigsby's immediate vicinity with no one else there to guard it.

As he dropped a teabag into the cup, absently watching the kettle do its thing, Jane's mind wandered back to their _second_ conversation outside the McKenzie's house. Yes, that was a much more pleasant train of thought. He'd seen Lisbon's envious gaze at the beautiful properties that had surrounded them, and he had had no issues with helping her to imagine herself in one of the homes. After all, there was no harm in allowing someone to dream, to hope, and Lisbon deserved to be happy, deserved to have a future outside of the CBI.

Before he realised it, his mind conjured up an image of Lisbon sat outside in the garden on a hot summer's day watching two small children with her wavy brown hair and his green eyes chasing each other and generally causing mischief. He had to admit, the idea of Lisbon watching over _their_ children suddenly seemed incredibly appealling…oh.

The realisation hit him like a freight train. While he had been busy experimenting and analysing _her _feelings, it was becoming increasingly apparent that _he_ probably felt something more for his partner than he realised. _When did that happen?_

Still, he decided quickly, no need to completely cease the teasing and the banter and the flirting. It was quite fun seeing how far he could push her, and he figured that given his new found awareness of her, he'd be getting a little bit of extra enjoyment out of it too.

He had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't really taken notice of anything, including the large amount of time that he had spent loitering in the break room. Which was probably why Lisbon was now standing in front of him, hands on her hips talking at him with an angry expression on her face.

A confused "huh?" was all his brain managed to provide when he realised she had finished speaking. Judging by her look, it was apparently the wrong thing to say, as her frown deepened and her eyes narrowed angrily at him. He could practically see the pulse in her forehead pounding from frustration. Oops. He took a tiny step back, holding his tea cup in front of him like a tiny porcelain shield, suddenly afraid for his personal well-being. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd hit him for ignoring her.

"You haven't heard a word I've said have you?" Lisbon didn't even afford him the opportunity to reply, rolling her eyes, probably deciding that hitting him wasn't worth the time or energy. Which was obviously a good thing. "Of course you haven't. It doesn't matter. Are you planning to join us anytime soon, or are you trying to break the world record for most times you can dunk a teabag into your cup?"

He hadn't realised that he was quite so far into his tea-making process. Jane realised he must have running on autopilot while thinking about his and Lisbon's non-existent children. He looked down, the hot liquid a deep brown, a few shades darker than he usually preferred. Hmm, a little more milk might be required this time round to salvage this particular cup. He probably shouldn't try Lisbon's patience by starting the whole process again. She'd probably use her gun against him if he did that.

"Uh… sorry Lisbon, got distracted. I'm on my way," he semi-shrugged by way of apology, not trusting himself to give any further details. She would _definitely _hit him if he'd told her the reason why his mind had wandered.

"Right. Well hurry up, the guys have got some news on the case that you'll probably want to hear." And she walked off towards the bullpen once more. He watched her go, his eyes momentarily focused on how nice she looked in her jeans, _especially_ walking away from him, before quickly deciding that thoughts of Lisbon, jeans, houses and everything in between could definitely wait until he was alone in the attic with another cup of tea and his Sudoku book.

Sighing, Jane put a bit of milk in his tea, stirred it quickly and made his way over to the bullpen.

As he approached, he waved at the others as a greeting and took his usual position on the couch, peering over at the rest of the team and making a note to himself not to stare quite so blatantly at Lisbon's nicely fitting jeans. Because, he thought to himself, that way madness lies. Or a beating. Either or.

"Right, now that _someone's_ decided to join us, can you give us an update guys?"

Cho, Rigsby and Grace were all sat at their desks, each of them holding a folder. They had clearly been busy while he and Lisbon had been interviewing the McKenzie's. Which was good, it might mean that they would be able to solve the case soon, and give the boy's family some closure.

Grace started, flicking her hair over her shoulder and carefully opening her folder, pulling out a couple of pieces of paper, which she handed over to Lisbon.

"There was nothing out of place with the McKenzie's financials that I could find Boss. Just the usual outgoing monthly bills and their incomes. They were doing ok, managing to keep their heads above water, even with the property recession. Sheriff Keller was right when he mentioned that the McKenzie's were big in real estate; you can tell they're really good at running their business. They've seemed to have invested well; there's a nice savings account, but it looks like it wasn't really touched. It was possibly a college fund for one or both of their sons."

Lisbon nodded and Jane listened intently as Cho took up the reigns of the conversation, informing them that there _had_ been a witness to something this morning, but not to the brutal killing of Liam McKenzie.

"Name's Kevin Elliott; runs a small bakery on the same road as the theatre. Says he didn't see anything at the time of Liam's death, but he _did_ hear a car revving its engine and gunning it down the street about 10 minutes after. He managed to get a look at it; dark blue, late model Sedan, but no luck on the plates and all he could tell me about the driver was that he was Caucasian and wearing dark glasses and a baseball cap."

"Ok," Lisbon said, looking at her second-in-command, leaning back on Grace's desk and folding her arms while nodding her head slowly. Jane realised he was *still* staring at her jeans. When had he turned into an ogling 15 year old boy? It was really quite ridiculous, and definitely had to stop; it would only lead to trouble. He made an effort to focus on something else.

"Write up the description and put it on the board," Lisbon was continuing with her instructions to Cho, who was writing notes in his notepad. "That's got to be our murderer, or at least a viable suspect. Shame about the plates. Grace," she said, turning to the young agent, "see if you can get any video footage from traffic cameras in a 15 block radius within 20 minutes of the time of death. If he drove past a camera, I want to know."

Grace nodded and began to type furiously onto her keyboard. Jane watched as Lisbon turned to Rigsby.

"What did you get back from forensics?"

"Couple of things. All of the blood on the bat belonged to Liam McKenzie, which isn't surprising given the nature of his injuries. However, they also found a hair on the murder weapon. Long, blond, so doesn't match Liam's." The youngest McKenzie brother had had short brown hair. "It's from a female donor but they're still running it through the system to see if they can find a match."

"So really," Jane interrupted, "we have a lead but we don't have a lead?"

He often found this to be the most frustrating part of a case; being right on the edge of a great step forward in the investigation, only to have it snatched away by the inevitable delays of the scientists in the lab. Give him a well-run scheme and a (usually semi-legal) hunt for evidence any day.

Lisbon glared at him, obviously none too pleased with his blasé attitude towards real police work. Rigsby just shrugged before answering.

"Forensics are putting a rush job on it. Hoping to have something back within the next few hours. Not much we can do until then."

"Ok, we'll wait it out. Let me know as soon as you hear anything." The taller man nodded, and leaned back in his chair.

"What did you find out from the McKenzie's Boss?" Grace asked, looking up from her computer.

Jane settled more comfortably into his couch as Lisbon proceeded to tell the rest of the team what the two of them had found out from their interview with the victim's family. He only interrupted a couple of times, just to add his thoughts and opinions to what Lisbon was saying. Apart from that, he stayed silent, happy to lean back into the familiar leather of his couch, drink his tea and ponder further ways to push this investigation along.

He soon realised that Lisbon had finished recounting the information from the interview, given out further instructions to Cho and Rigsby to interview Jacob Macken and Andrew McKenzie as soon as possible and had retreated into her office. He decided not to follow her, figuring that she had probably had enough of his presence in the last few hours. Plus, he really needed a nap. He hadn't had one since that morning. He swiveled so he was laid flat out on the couch and closed his eyes. She'd wake him if she needed him. She always did.

* * *

He woke abruptly when she kicked the couch by his head. He kept his eyes closed, hoping to pull off the illusion that he had been conscious the whole time. Judging by her voice, she sounded like she still hadn't forgiven him for whatever it was she believed he had done earlier. Honestly, the woman was infuriatingly stubborn sometimes.

"Wake up."

"I am awake woman, leave me be." He tried to prevent the slightly gruff, still half asleep voice from escaping as he spoke. He failed miserably.

"You were clearly sleeping." She sighed as she replied, and even with his own shut he could tell she was rolling her eyes in exasperation.

"I was not sleeping; I was collating valuable data relating to the case." He opened his eyes then, gazing up into her face. Her tone had indicated that she was still annoyed at him, but judging by the soft smile gracing her face, and the twinkle in her eyes, he appeared to be back on her good side. Which was a bit of a relief to be honest; it was hard work avoiding flying staplers when Lisbon was annoyed at him.

"I didn't realise collating data involved snoring and drooling all over the cushion," she mocked, chuckling slightly.

Jane sat up straight, frantically wiping his mouth to clear any drool related evidence. He quickly realised, when he felt nothing on the back of his hand, that he'd been played. He hadn't drooled, and probably hadn't snored either. Oooh, she was good.

"Busted." She had the audacity to wink at him. He just shrugged up at her, aiming for nonchalance.

"What can I say; you obviously wore me out today. I'm not as young as I used to be, sometimes I just can't keep up with you and your stamina." He winked back, playing her at her own game. She blushed slightly, and moved to hit him. She shuffled further back into the leather of the couch, avoiding her swiping hand.

"Shut up," she said, immediately standing up a little straighter, signifying the switch between playful Lisbon and working Lisbon. "Rigsby's just heard back from forensics."

Their brief exchange was quickly forgotten; something important that was case-related had clearly been discovered. Excellent. Good. Wonderful.

It was clear to him that he and Lisbon were teetering on the edge of something quite dangerous, and the middle of a murder case _probably_ wasn't the place to be pushing each other's buttons. No matter how much fun it would be.

He turned round to face the rest of the bullpen and realised, quite belatedly, that he and Lisbon had performed their little game of banter in front of an audience. _Great_. Grace was clearly trying to hide a grin, Rigsby was stood next to her with his mouth slightly open and Cho, well, Cho just looked like he normally did, but Jane could tell he was probably trying to determine what on earth was occurring between himself and Lisbon. Jane wished him luck, because even _he_ had no idea what was going on.

Lisbon coughed slightly, and Jane noticed that the blush had returned.

"Right Rigsby, what did forensics have to say?"

Lisbon's voice seemed to shake Rigsby out of whatever shock he was currently in, and he looked carefully at the folder before him.

"Um, they've managed to trace the hair that they found on the bat. It belongs to a woman called Jessica Freeman. 34 years old, married to an Alex Freeman. She's a nurse at a local hospital, situated about half a mile from the McKenzie crime scene."

"Excellent," Lisbon replied, and Jane could tell she was glad to finally hear some good news in relation to the investigation. "Have you got an address, Jane and I will head over to question her."

Rigsby shook his head as he responded. "I'm afraid you won't be able to interview her Boss. She's missing. Husband filed a missing person's report 5 hours ago."

So much for good news, Jane thought. This case had just thrown them their first curve ball.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary: **The chapter in which Lisbon avoids the big issue between her and her consultant and Jane has a new theory…

**Disclaimer:** The Mentalist doesn't belong to me, unfortunately.

**Warnings:** Some graphic descriptions, naughty words and dirty thoughts.

**Spoilers:** No major ones, but I would probably say this is set before the end of Season 3 so spoilers for who's in charge etc. And I guess therefore it's a little AU…

**Authors note: **Another round of thanks to everyone for reading/reviewing/ favouriting and following. I'm really getting into this whole multi-chapter writing thing now; I've always stuck to one-shots before so it's been good to flex my writing muscles. I'm learning a lot about what/ what not to do, so it's proving a useful experience!

In relation to this story, I'm almost a couple of chapters ahead now and I've just about figured out how to link everything together. I still can't say how many more chapters though; at least another 5 if not more. (I have the final 2 chapters nearly finished and the starts of an epilogue; I just have to get there first!) The case and UST will be ramping up in the next few chapters as well; I think Jane and Lisbon are getting frustrated with the slow burn ;)

As always, hope you enjoy and feel free to leave a review letting me know what you think :)

* * *

The next few days passed in a strange combination of rushed activity and long, tiresome periods of waiting. Following Rigsby's discovery that Jessica Freeman was missing, Lisbon and Jane had immediately set out to speak to the husband in a bid to find out further information.

Alex Freeman had been distraught and justifiably concerned about his wife's welfare. Lisbon had listened carefully as he had revealed that Jessica had called him at about 8am that morning to say that she was on her way home. It was a call she made every time she worked the night shift at the hospital, he had said, because he was always on his way out to work as she was on her way back; and it gave them an opportunity to talk at least once during the day even if their paths didn't actually cross. Lisbon had thought it was quite romantic of the couple; and then blushed slightly when she realised that she and Jane would often text each other to see how they were, even on days off.

However, Alex Freeman had revealed that that morning he hadn't been feeling particularly well, and had planned on taking the day off work to recover. Which meant he would have been home when Jessica arrived back from her night shift at roughly 9am. But she had never appeared and Alex Freeman had immediately become concerned. He had left it a couple of hours; in case she had decided to go shopping, and then, having realised that she definitely wasn't coming home, he called the police and filed the missing persons report.

There had so far been no ransom note, and Freeman had stated that there would have been no reason for his wife to just disappear; they were happy in their marriage, were trying for their first child in fact. Their financials were sound and they were both satisfied with their jobs. Lisbon and Jane had had no reason to suspect he was lying; the man seemed genuinely torn up about his wife's disappearance.

Freeman had looked confused when Jane had asked if his wife had known Liam McKenzie, or any of the victim's family. He had answered that he wasn't aware of any connection between them; he and his wife had only moved into the area a year or so ago after living out of the state for several years and had not really been out socialising since.

They promised to keep in touch regarding any leads in Jessica's disappearance, and Freeman told him he would let them know immediately if he heard from his wife or if he thought of any useful information that may help them with their investigation.

While they had been speaking to the husband, Lisbon had been pleased to hear that Cho and Rigsby had managed to speak to both Jacob Macken and Andrew McKenzie, although neither interview revealed any new information. In the meantime, Van Pelt had managed to find a couple of photos from a traffic camera 6 blocks from the crime scene that showed the dark blue Sedan Kevin Elliott had described tearing away from the direction of the theatre shortly after Liam McKenzie's death. Unfortunately, the car had been registered stolen, and there was no way to trace it. They had sent out a BOLO out to local polices forces in case they saw any sign of the vehicle, but so far they had heard nothing back. The photo had been hung up on the board, the image of the driver slightly blurry, but exactly as Kevin Elliott had described; Caucasian, baseball cap, sunglasses. Not exactly a useful lead.

In fact, any sort of useful lead failed to materialise over the next 3 days. Jessica Freeman was still missing and the team had resorted to coming up with a list of potential scenarios; working through them and ruling them out one by one. They were swiftly coming to the conclusion that Freeman had either been an accomplice to Liam's murder (unlikely) or another victim (a theory becoming more plausible with each day she remained missing). Jane had not been particularly helpful over the last couple of days, and had, quite frankly, Lisbon noted as she sat at her desk, been hovering around her just enough to piss her off slightly while not actually doing anything of use. When they had spoken, it had been about the case, but in truth she had spent most of her time either in the bullpen, in her office or informing Hightower of any updates.

She figured she and Jane were due for _some_ kind of deep and meaningful discussion, although she wasn't sure about what, and certainly wasn't sure that she wanted to actually talk to him about _anything_; but there was definitely _something_ going on. The atmosphere had changed between them. It was subtle, but noticeable, and it was starting to become a big distraction; especially now that new information on the case was becoming a rarity. So she was avoiding him in an effort to focus on the case.

Which was why she now sat at her desk at 11 at night, sipping a luke-warm cup of coffee and reading over the case files again while ignoring the presence of the man on the couch outside, who, when she had last looked at him 3 hours ago, had been drinking a cup of tea and attempting another Sudoku puzzle. A prime example of how _unhelpful_ he had been in the last couple of days. Whatever attraction she felt for him was quickly being overruled by the urge to smack him while yelling at him to actually get on with some work.

While Jane seemed perfectly content to let everyone else do the hard work (again), Lisbon, on the other hand, was determined to find a hint of something, anything, in the words and photos before her that could help them. She was not going to let the murderer of Liam McKenzie get away with their horrific crime. Especially if that crime had potentially involved the kidnap of Jessica Freeman as well. No ransom note had arrived and so Freeman's disappearance was still deemed a missing person's case. Lisbon knew, however, that the odds were high that Jessica had witnessed something and had been taken for it.

The words in front of her were beginning to blur and she knew she had to go home. She wasn't doing any good here now. She sighed and stood up, tucking the files away rather haphazardly on her desk and picking up her car keys and her bag. She would go home, grab a few hours of sleep and start the whole process again in the morning. There had to be something there; she was just missing that final link.

She closed the door to her office quietly, and made her way through the bullpen, turning to wish Jane a hurried 'goodnight' so that she wouldn't get drawn into a conversation. However, she froze as soon as she saw him. Gone was the Sudoku book and his tea cup looked like it had been empty for some time. Instead, Jane was lent back on his couch, legs crossed, arms folded over his chest; encasing a couple of crime scene photos there, his head back at an awkward angle. He was asleep, the gentle snores giving his state of rest away. It wasn't unusual for Jane to fall asleep on the couch; it seemed one of the few places he found comfort apart from her own office and his attic.

What was unusual was the fact that the rest of the couch was covered in the same files she had been reading in her own office. Photos and pages were spread out, and she noticed that he had taken a marker to some of the text and a couple of pictures, clearly having seen something there that she hadn't. It quickly became obvious that he had been working on the case after all, had in fact been scrutinising everything they had in as much detail as she, if not more. Damn the man; just when she thought she knew what he was up to, he would surprise her.

As much as she had wanted to avoid him and get home, she couldn't just leave him there. He was clearly exhausted, and he would have an incredibly painful neck come morning if he stayed like that; which would result in him moaning all day about it. Lisbon sighed again, placed her bag on the floor and wandered across to the sleeping consultant, leaning over slightly as she approached him.

"Jane," she said softly, hoping it might rouse him from his sleep. "Jane, wake up."

It had no effect, so she reached out and shook him slightly.

"Jane, wake up. You need to rest somewhere properly; you'll hurt your neck like this." His hand seemed to instinctively reach out for hers, and she could hear his faint mumble of; "5 more minutes, Lisbon dear, I'm having the most wonderful dream," before his head shifted slightly the other way, neck still at an unnatural angle.

She rolled her eyes and moved to nudge him again. Eventually, after some more shaking and a round of grumbling from Jane, he woke up, blinking and bleary eyed.

"Lisbon s'at you? Whatcha doin'? Wassatime?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands, jumping slightly as the photos fluttered down his chest.

"Gone 11. I was just heading out, saw you out here snoring your head off," she looked down at him, trying to resist a grin as Patrick Jane struggled to kick start his brain after his impromptu snooze.

"Oh right, yeah, I was going through the files," he waved vaguely at the covered couch, "guess I fell asleep."

"Obviously."

"Thought you were avoiding me? I'm surprised you didn't just leave me here." He blinked up at her, still trying to focus. His voice was low and a whisper, a hint of what she thought was accusation in his tone.

"Not avoiding, I've just been getting on with work, we are in the middle of a case you know," he was awake enough now to give her a look then, one that clearly said 'I don't believe you'. She sighed. "Yeah, ok, maybe I'm avoiding you a little, but leaving you like that is deemed as cruel and unusual punishment, and the paperwork for that is a nightmare," she smiled at him, hoping for a truce.

He hadn't _really_ done anything to warrant her avoidance; it was just a case of her being afraid to face whatever the hell it was between them, and the easiest way to do that was to avoid the other main culprit in the scenario. It was a tactic that he had obviously picked up on. Which shouldn't really have surprised her; it was difficult to get anything past Patrick Jane.

"You need to get up, find somewhere to rest properly." She changed the subject quickly, hoping again that the inevitable awkward conversation could still be avoided. Jane just nodded before answering.

"Yeah, I'll head upstairs in a minute. I think I found something here before I fell asleep, I was gonna tell you about it…" he was fishing through all the paper on the couch, knocking some off and shoving others out of the way.

"Jane. Leave it for the morning, it can wait until then. You need rest, you look as tired as I feel, and that's saying something!" She smiled at him again, hoping that he would just listen to her for once and do what he was damn well told.

"Yeah… ok; I'll find it in the morning. My brain's a little fuzzy and can't quite remember what it was… a niggling something." He semi-shrugged and moved to stand up. They walked in a companionable silence towards the elevator, and Lisbon turned to look up at him after it arrived to take her downstairs.

"Night Jane," she said, smiling at him again. He stood beside her, hair ruffled from sleep and his shirt and vest crinkled from his previous position on the couch. His hands were in his pockets, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows and he was swaying backwards and forwards slightly; not out of exhaustion it seemed, but as if he suddenly had too much pent up energy. He looked incredibly handsome, Lisbon thought, before deciding that that was dangerous territory.

He didn't reply to her straight away, and Lisbon noted he had an almost distant look on his face. Then, a look of determination replaced it, as if he had reached a decision. He stepped forward and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek before quickly retreating to a suitable distance, hands still in his pockets.

"Night Lisbon, thanks for waking me, sleep tight." And he stepped back and retreated up to the attic. Lisbon could do nothing but stare after him and place a hand on the cheek he had touched, still feeling the dryness of his lips and the faint brush of stubble. She couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to have those lips on other parts of her body, exploring, tasting…

Oh God, she was in serious trouble now.

* * *

"I need to go back to the crime scene." Lisbon watched as Jane waltzed into the office and sat himself down on the chair in front of her desk. She raised an eyebrow up at him in question. It seemed that he wasn't going to mention the kiss from the night before, and she certainly wasn't going to bring it up, so she guessed it was going to stay firmly in the 'stuff Jane and I won't be discussing' box for the time being.

"Why?"

Jane just shrugged, and she knew she probably wasn't going to like whatever suggestion was about to come out of his mouth.

"I've got a theory, the one I was trying to figure out last night," he looked at her then, a faint look of mischief in his eyes, "But I need to walk through it and I can only do that at the crime scene. I need someone to help me so you'll have to come along too," he pointed at her. "Come on, let's go." He stood up and motioned for her to move. She remained seated, glaring at him slightly.

"I've got paperwork for Hightower to do Jane, take Rigsby or Cho."

The damn man actually pouted. A full on 'I'm going to sulk because I'm not getting my own way' pout. What was he, four years old?

"But they won't understand, and Rigbsy's too big to move and Cho will hit me if I have to manhandle him."

"Just what does this theory entail that means you have to potentially manhandle Rigsby or Cho?!" She asked, her tone a mixture of confusion and wariness. "And why is it ok for you to apparently manhandle me?" She added as an afterthought.

"Because it's you; you let me get away with practically anything," he flashed a grin at her, and she realised pretty quickly that he was right. "And I didn't guarantee manhandling, I only implied that there might be some potential for it. Get your mind out of the gutter Teresa Lisbon." He waved his damn finger at her, the stupid grin still plastered on his face.

She sighed resigned to being dragged along on one of his potentially ridiculous schemes, and motioned at the small pile of paper in front of her.

"Ok, give me 20 minutes, I really have to finish this paperwork before I head out anywhere. Go and make yourself useful somewhere else until then." She waved at him dismissively, motioning towards the door. She wasn't entirely surprised when he merely stood up and laid himself down on her office couch and shut his eyes. She threw an eraser at him just because she could. He chuckled and put his hands behind his head, waiting for her to finish.

* * *

"I think we've been looking at this the wrong way," he said, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets and rocking back and forth on his feet. The temperature in Sacramento had climbed again and he had left his jacket in the car, for once deciding that it probably wasn't a wise decision to wear quite so many clothes in the heat. Lisbon had a plain t-shirt on with her jeans and was just about comfortable in the mid-morning sun. She did hope they weren't out here for too long though; especially if Jane was going to ramble on.

"What do you mean?" she asked, glancing up at him.

They were stood at the edge of the parking lot, looking into the area where Liam McKenzie's body had been found. There was no evidence of a crime having taken place there anymore. The clean-up crews had been and gone, although parts of the yellow crime scene tape still remained.

Jane moved to stand in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Lisbon just looked at him, confused. And ignored the fact that he was rubbing his right thumb in little circles in a _really_ distracting way.

"Ok, bear with me Lisbon, I'm going to need you to just go along with me on this." He looked thoughtful but urgent.

"Ok," she replied, knowing she didn't really have a choice. At least he had bothered to say he was about to go off on a tangent; normally he raced ahead and she just got pulled along for the ride. Which inevitably led to her being exhausted, irritable and surrounded by a large pile of paperwork.

"Right, so, as I was saying," Jane started, releasing her shoulders and facing into the parking lot again. "I think we've been looking at it the wrong way. We've been looking at this as if Liam McKenzie was the intended victim in all of this." He looked at her, and she merely nodded, motioning for him to continue.

"And we've suggested that, despite the fact that she's missing, Jessica Freeman could either be an accomplice or a witness to Liam's murder, yes?"

It was still the team's current theory. Jessica Freeman's walk to the bus stop took her past the movie theatre, and would have passed it at roughly the same time as Liam was killed. While she was missing though, they had no way of collecting any evidence to prove it one way or the other.

"Yeah, although we have no evidence to back it up," Lisbon said, still wondering where he was going with this. She hoped he hadn't brought her out here just to talk about stuff she already knew. He could have done that back at her office where there was air conditioning.

"Well, what if Jessica was the intended victim?" Jane stopped his pacing and looked at her. "And Liam was the witness?"

Lisbon paused, thinking over Jane's idea. She had to admit that it was something that had crossed her mind, albeit briefly, since the forensics had come back with an ID on the hair. In the process of their conversation they had wandered over to the _other_ side of the road, the one opposite the theatre's parking lot. Jane had parked his Citroen in a small alleyway that lay between two abandoned shops. Lisbon had asked him why he couldn't have just parked on the street, but he'd just shrugged and said it was part of his theory.

Lisbon was now lent against the car, her arms folded, while Jane stood before her.

"How do you figure?"

"Well, that's why you're here Lisbon. I need to test something. But I need someone here to help me prove it."

"Ok. I can do that. What do you need me to do?"

He moved towards her then, and Lisbon suddenly thought he was going to kiss her again. Instead, he reached for her hand and pulled her away from the car. He turned her around until she was facing the parking lot again. He glanced at her, and then looked towards the parking lot. He did this a couple of times, moving her slightly one way then another before he nodded and spoke again.

"Just stay here," he said, before turning around and running off across the road towards the parking lot of the theatre. She tracked his movements and watched as he stopped near the far end of the lot.

After a few seconds, her cell rang, and she fished it out of her pocket. Jane's face smiled at her from the Caller ID. She answered the call.

"Jane? What are you doing?"

"Can you see me?"

"Huh?"

"Can you see me?" He repeated, sounding slightly exasperated. She looked at him across the street and saw he was waving at her.

"Yes, but why…"

"Excellent, because I can see you. I think I may have figured out why Liam McKenzie was killed."

"Care to explain?"

"Yup. I'll come back over. Wait a sec."

She watched as he started to jog back over, and had to prevent herself from laughing slightly as he arrived back in front of her a little out of breath. Obviously he was neglecting cardio work when using the weights at the gym. She moved to lean against the car again, looking up at him in question.

"So," she said, after he failed to say anything for a couple of moments, "Liam McKenzie?"

"Oh yeah, right. So," Jane lent himself against the Citroen next to her and turned to look down at her, his eyes suddenly serious. "I think Liam was a witness to Jessica Freeman's abduction."

"And how do you figure that?"

"Well, a couple of things. When I was looking back over the crime scene photos last night I remembered what Rigsby had said in your office. You know, when he brought us the photos of the mural?"

She remembered, although the first thing that had flashed into her head was the feel of his hand on hers as he'd lent over her.

"Yeah, I remember that. What did you notice?"

"Well, Rigsby said that you could tell he'd been attacked while using the spray paint, because the can had rolled under the dumpster."

Lisbon nodded.

"But then he'd said that it didn't explain why his body wasn't found next to the bag."

Lisbon continued to nod.

"Yeah," she said, looking up at him, "but we decided that he must have dropped the can and tried to escape from his attacker. That's why his body was found further away."

"A perfectly sound explanation Lisbon, apart from one thing. It was something that was niggling at me every time I saw pictures of the scene. At first I thought it was just the way the boy had fallen when he'd been hit, but then the coroner's report came back and said that he was hit on the right side of his head and statistically it's more likely for the murderer to have been right handed…" He was rambling.

"Jane. Focus." She warned sharply.

"Oh yes, sorry. Well, Liam wasn't facing away from his bag," he said, gazing at the wall of the alley in front of them, "he was facing away from the _road_."

She felt his observation sink in, realised that she had had the same niggling doubts as he, but had been unable to make that final link.

"So," she said slowly, suddenly moving up off the car and heading towards the entrance of the alley. "He was running from this direction. But why?"

"Well, here's where my theory comes in. As I said before, I think the Jessica Freeman was the intended victim. Now, she was probably being stalked. From what her husband told us, she had received a couple of random abusive calls and texts, but hadn't thought anything of it, she probably deemed it part of her job of being a nurse, you know, unhappy patients and families and the like. But it was more likely that someone was following her, learning her routines." He paused momentarily, making sure that she was following his train of thought. Lisbon looked at him, nodded and motioned for him to continue.

"So, the kidnapper knows that she's working a night shift that day, knows that she'll likely be walking along this road to reach the bus stop to go home. This street's pretty quiet at that time of the morning, it's off the main roads and the shops don't open until later in the morning. So it's secluded. Would have lulled Jessica Freeman into a false sense of security. So he uses her walk home as his opportunity to take her. He's followed her enough times to know it's the perfect spot; who's gonna notice him?"

Lisbon gasped slightly, and Jane nodded at her, knowing she was fitting the pieces together.

"Liam McKenzie," she said, looking first at him, then across the road.

"Liam McKenzie," he confirmed. "He was there that early to start his project. Was wandering around the lot and had just started painting. He probably heard the start of a scream, or maybe Jessica or her attacker knocking something over in the alley." He was pacing now, caught up in his hypothetical tale.

"So he runs over to the edge of the road, sees the car, and Jessica and the kidnapper and maybe shouts at them; trying to help. The kidnapper, who had probably subdued Freeman by now, sees him, spots him as a danger to the plan and runs after him. Chases Liam back across the road, catches up with him, swings the bat he's picked up and kills him. He knows that he's got to hurry, because Jessica will likely be regaining consciousness soon, so he abandons the bat in the dumpster, runs back to the alley, makes sure that Jessica is secure somewhere in the car; probably the trunk, and drives off so loudly that it catches Kevin Elliot's attention in the bakery over there." He pointed further down the street then turned to look at Lisbon.

"That's what I think happened. I think Liam was in the wrong place at the wrong time; killed for trying to save someone else."

Lisbon paused for a couple of seconds, processing everything that Jane had just told her. It was a feasible scenario, could have been what had actually happened on that morning. But again, they had no evidence, and unless Jessica Freeman turned up, there was no way to determine if Jane's sequence of events was correct. She relayed this to the man in front of her, who nodded.

"I know. We're still in this stupid limbo between leads; but at least it gives us something else to think about."

Lisbon didn't say anything, just stared at the parking lot where Liam McKenzie had lost his life. Had fate been so cruel as to take him away from his parents because he was trying to save someone else; had decided that despite his honourable intentions his life should be cut short? It really wasn't fair. She sighed in frustration at the whole thing; this case was beginning to wear her down, she could tell. She had a feeling that the end was nowhere in sight.

She and Jane stood in silence for a few minutes, both leaning against the Citroen again and taking in the quiet of the morning while lost in their own thoughts. They were interrupted by Lisbon's cell going off in her pocket again. She took it out, saw that it was Cho and answered.

"Cho, what's up?" A pause as Cho relayed something to her. "They have? Damn it...yeah he's here...we're on our way...yeah see you in a bit...bye." She ended the call and looked up at Jane, who was eyeing her with a look of slight resignation.

"Come on, we've got to go. They've just found Jessica Freeman's body about 4 miles from here. The others are already on their way, we'll meet them there."

Jane just nodded and unlocked the car, knowing it was best not to say anything at the moment, that his observations could wait until they arrived at their latest crime scene.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary: **The chapter in which the team may finally have caught a break and our favourite couple find themselves in an interesting situation…

**Disclaimer:** The Mentalist doesn't belong to me, unfortunately.

**Warnings:** Some graphic descriptions, naughty words and dirty thoughts.

**Spoilers:** No major ones, but I would probably say this is set before the end of Season 3 so spoilers for who's in charge etc. And I guess therefore it's a little AU…

**Authors note: **Another round of thanks to everyone for reading/reviewing/ favouriting and following.

Hey, look at that! Two chapters in one day; crazy times! I'm posting this now, mainly because it's my day off so I managed to get some extra writing time in but also because it's going to be a pretty hectic week for me work-wise, then I'm flying back to the UK for a week on Thursday, so I'm not entirely sure when I'm going to be able to update next; could be tomorrow, could be a few days or longer! Hopefully you'll enjoy this slightly longer chapter in the meantime though, especially the end ;)

This chapter does feature some fairly graphic description of a crime scene, so a heads up to all those who might be a little squeamish. Also, the UST is ramped up to 11 in this chapter, just so you know :)

As always, enjoy!

* * *

Lisbon was used to bloody crime scenes, and had developed a way of compartmentalising the horrific details of her job to prevent the nightmares that normal citizens would probably get. But what she saw as she ducked under the yellow crime scene tape where they had found Jessica Freeman's body would likely stay with her for a long time, through this case and many more in the future. She felt Jane falter beside her slightly as he also took in the scene. He had seen horrors beyond her comprehension; had seen gore and blood and death in more detail and with more fear than she probably ever would. She was amazed that he managed to come to these scenes sometimes, but she figured that he was just as good as sectioning off unpleasant thoughts as she was, if not better.

It was clear to anyone who saw her that Jessica Freeman had been tortured before being killed. Lisbon suddenly understood why Rigsby had looked a little green as they'd walked past him and had muttered quietly that they had only been able to identify the body from the licence found in the purse next to her.

The poor woman's body was naked, spread-eagled with her legs stretched out and her arms at awkward angles. One of them had been broken before she died, the limb twisted unnaturally, a bone puncturing the skin. There were dark bruises across her torso, massive welts that were purple and yellow and brown. Lisbon shook her head in disgust. Jessica Freeman had been beaten over several days, and badly. Both of her kneecaps looked to have been smashed, and her left ankle was dislocated.

The worst injuries, however, were to her head and face. Or what had been her head and face. They had been beaten so badly that you could not recognise it as a woman, let alone Jessica Freeman. Someone had taken a heavy instrument and beaten her to death. After all of the pain and torture they had put her through, they had taken her life with a devastating number of attacks to her head. Blood and brain matter mixed together, and Lisbon took a deep breath before turning away. It was horrific. Whoever had done this had set out to inflict the most amount of pain on this woman before they killed her. It was really nothing short of evil.

Jane had remained quiet next to her, observing the body and the surrounding area. He waited a minute or so before speaking.

"I think we can safely say that Jessica Freeman was the intended victim. Her kidnapper wouldn't have done this is she had just been a witness to Liam McKenzie's death. This," he said, waving at the body, "this was malicious. Calculated but frenzied. There's a lot of anger manifested in these blows, in committing this type of torture. We have a seriously psychopathic killer out there Lisbon, and I don't think, judging by his actions here, that Mrs Freeman is his only intended target."

"I agree," she said, risking another look at the body, feeling a hint of queasiness spread through her. "There's something here that we're not seeing. Something that she had done to make her a target. We need to do some more digging, see if her husband was right about her not having any enemies."

Lisbon sighed then, and looked almost sadly at the body.

"It's not your fault you know," Jane said, putting a hand comfortingly on her arm. "None of us could have known that Liam wasn't the intended target, and that Jessica would have been killed like this. We can only use their deaths to find whichever bastard did this."

She rested her hand briefly over his, appreciating the gesture.

"I know, I just feel we could have, should have done something more. But you're right; we'll use what we learn here to catch him before he kills again."

They split up then; Lisbon heading to the local cop who had called them in, and Jane heading over to Grace to ask what she had found on her initial search around the crime scene.

* * *

They reconvened in the bullpen 3 hours later. Following their search around the scene, Lisbon had sent Rigsby and Cho back to Alex Freeman's house to let him know the news and to see if he could provide them with any more information about his wife and her past that would indicate why she could have been a victim of such a violent crime. Grace had been following up on the car lead given to them by the traffic camera a few days previously; hoping to find out if the same car that had been used to snatch Jessica Freeman from the street by the theatre had been the same one used to dump her body. So far she hadn't found anything. The area that Jessica Freeman had been left was remote and CCTV coverage was poor at best. It was a disappointing development, but one that needed checking out.

Lisbon could see that the whole team were exhausted, frustrated at the needless death of not one victim, but two. They were waiting to hear back from forensics, and Lisbon passed the time by getting everyone to go over everything that they had learnt since they had caught the case, in the off chance that a stray thought or statement would spark a fresh insight into the investigation. The three younger investigators were all bent over their desks, studying various files and scribbling on their notepads. Lisbon was currently lent on Jane's desk, arms folded, staring at the board with all the major details stuck to it; hoping for something to twig. She turned and glanced to her left at the man she knew was there.

Jane was sat on the couch again, a cup of tea in hand, peering at the photos of Jessica's body, as if trying to read something in the patterns of the wounds. Lisbon had noted that he had been pretty much silent since they had returned from the crime scene, but she recognised it as his need to process and analyse.

He looked up her then, as if sensing that she was watching him, and smiled. She returned the smile and almost laughed as he patted the seat on the couch next to him. She rolled her eyes, but moved across to him regardless, and took up the space next to him. Jane said nothing initially, just reached his hand behind her, stretching his arm over her shoulder, leaning it on the back of the couch. Lisbon almost jumped, thinking that he was going to put his arm around her. Would he really do that? In the middle of the bullpen with the others within such a small distance? Was he going to try and kiss her? Did she _want_ him to? He wouldn't dare, surely!

As if sensing her apprehension, Jane whispered in her ear, his voice soft and full of amusement.

"Oh stop panicking yourself woman, I'm not _that_ much of an exhibitionist you know," and he chuckled as she visibly relaxed. As quickly as his arm had stretched out, it returned and Lisbon saw that there was something in his hand.

"Cookie?" Jane asked, all wide eyed and innocent while offering her the snack.

"Oh, you jerk! I thought you were…" she paused, deciding not to go there, and took two cookies instead from the packet he held out to her instead. They were double chocolate chip, her favourite. He was clearly playing some kind of game with her; probably a form of revenge for avoiding him earlier in the week.

"Thought I was what? Going to snuggle up to you? Try and make out with you on the couch like a teenager? Really Lisbon, you're mind truly is permanently in the gutter these days!"

"Shut up you idiot. Why do you have cookies on the back of your couch?"

He shrugged, as if hiding confectionery on the back of furniture was the most normal thing in the world.

"Sometimes I like a snack, and the break room's too far away. Plus, if they're over here, Rigsby can't steal them. It's my secret stash!" He grinned again, and Lisbon couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. Rigsby, Cho and Van Pelt all looked up and the slightly unusual sound of their Boss' laughter, but as soon they saw the source of it they went back to work. They all knew that Jane had a way of making Lisbon do things she wouldn't normally.

"So," Lisbon said, finishing off her second cookie as he dunked one into his tea methodically, "is there another reason you called me over here apart from to offer me cookies?"

"Isn't that enough Lisbon? You wound me!" At her frown, he sighed dramatically before smiling sadly and looking at the photo in front of him.

"I know we haven't found the murder weapon yet, but I'm thinking it's likely to be another baseball bat or something similar. Look at the bruising pattern here on her back." He pointed at the picture of Jessica Freeman the coroner had sent across with his initial report.

"The blows are long, slightly rounded, done with enough force to bruise and to cause pain, but not enough to shatter her ribcage, which would likely have punctured one or both of her lungs or stabbed her heart. He showed a certain amount of restraint when he beat her, not a lot, but enough to ensure that he could keep her alive for a longer period of time. I don't think she was naked while he did it though, I think she had some padding on, either lots of clothes or something specific to cover her; maybe body armour, or chest plates. Something to protect the ribs and internal organs from the blows, but enough to cause major damage to the outside of her body."

Their heads had moved closer to each other as the bent and looked at the photo, and Lisbon could hear his soft breathing in her ear. He wasn't speaking any louder than a whisper, and she knew that if anyone had looked over, they would have looked like they were sharing a very private, very intimate conversation. Somehow, at that moment, when it seemed like it was just the two of them, she couldn't bring herself to care. She was going to indulge in his presence just once. Maybe it would take the edge off the feelings she'd been having since he kissed her the night before. They'd both gone quiet, just staring at the photos in front of them. Lisbon figured that Jane was probably lost in his own thoughts as well; she almost hoped that they were causing him as much distraction as hers were.

The shill tone of the phone ringing in her office ended the moment, and she quickly rose to answer it.

She returned a few minutes later, and called the rest of the team to get their attention.

"That was forensics," she started, looking around at each of them. "They found a couple of things and I think we've finally got some credible leads. First off, they found a hair from Liam McKenzie on Jessica Freeman's body, most likely a transfer, so there's now evidence to link the two victims. Plus, they found some skin under Jessica Freeman's nails. It seems she tried to put up a fight before they killed her. Forensics have traced the DNA back to someone on the system. They're sending over the information now," she said, making her way over to the printer and grabbing the piece of paper that had just emerged from it.

She moved over to the board and stuck up the photo of their newest lead before turning to the rest of the team, who had all stood up and made their way to look more closely at the person who could be their first viable suspect.

"Tony Needham. 20 years old, arrested at 18 for suspected assault but never charged. Has a juvenile record, which is sealed obviously, but he's currently a student at Thomas Heights College in town studying American History."

The picture of their suspect was his mug shot, taken a couple of years previously. He was tall, with short brown hair and startling blue eyes. While he wasn't smiling at the camera in this picture, Lisbon could tell that the man in front of them would have a very charming smile, probably one that made everyone notice him, women and men alike. But there was something in his eyes, something that didn't _feel_ right. A hint of something dangerous; a sense of trouble that was simmering just under the surface.

"Any family?" Rigsby asked, looking over the photo.

"Yeah, parents are listed as Mark and Sarah Needham, no siblings. Van Pelt, I need you to track them down, see if you can find a home address, for the parents _and _for Needham. Cho, Rigsby, head back over to the McKenzie's, on the off chance they knew of Needham, especially Andrew, he's about Needham's age. Then, if he's ok to talk, have another chat with Alex Freeman, find out if there's a link there. Jane and I will head over to the college, see if we can find our suspect there, and get any further information. We need to tread carefully here guys; if he's guilty this guy killed a 13 year old boy and tortured Jessica Freeman to death. Come on Jane, let's go."

The team all moved at once, heading for their respective jobs, leaving Jane and Lisbon to head over to the college. It was still early enough in the afternoon for classes to be running; and even if Needham wasn't there, they could at least ask the Admin staff and the Principal if they had any concerns. They needed to build a strong case against Needham if he was indeed the murderer. They would have to be careful either way; he clearly had a history of violence that would not make this hunt a walk in the park.

* * *

Jane wandered off almost as soon as they arrived at Thomas Heights. Lisbon knew it was pointless trying to get him to stay with her; he obviously had some sort of plan and there was very little she could do to stop him. It was clearly one of those 'I should probably inform Lisbon of my idea but inevitably I won't because I'm an idiot' schemes, seeing as he'd given her a slightly guilty look as he'd started to slink off. She warned him as he moved away not to start any trouble and to definitely _**not**_ talk to Needham if he found him first. He just waved a hand at her dismissively and disappeared round the side of the building.

She sighed and made her way over to the Reception area, smiling politely and introducing herself to the clerk at the front of the school.

"Hi, I'm Agent Teresa Lisbon, CBI. I'm here to ask about one of your students…"

* * *

Jane looked up and down the hall, hoping to find the particular lecture hall he was after. He had followed the signs from the outside of the building to this part of the college, and he knew he was close to finding what he was looking for. He'd managed to pick up a stray timetable for lecture halls off the admin desk, and had briefly studied it, memorising the times and locations of the American History lectures that Tony Needham would likely be attending. He wasn't going to talk to the suspect, was just going to have a look at him, see if he could spot anything before he was aware of the police's interest in him. Killers and criminals tended to get complacent if they knew no-one was looking for them specifically, and Jane knew he could use that against Needham if he was the man they were after.

He spotted Room 9B down the hall, and slipped in quietly, resting himself against the back wall. The hall was about half full, and no one really looked up at him as he entered, apart from a couple of girls on the back row who were more interested in painting their nails and applying mascara than listening to what their lecturer had to say. They smiled nervously at him, and he flashed them his most charming grin and put his finger to his lips, asking for their silence. They nodded, and continued with their make-up.

Jane scanned the hall, hoping to catch sight of Tony Needham, although he wasn't sure if Needham was even there. Still, it was worth a shot.

He lucked out 20 seconds later when the lecturer asked a question and several hands went up.

"Tony, out you come," he heard the teacher say, "let's hear what you've got to say on the subject."

A tall, well-built young man stood up, and made his way to the front of the hall. Jane could tell instantly that this was the same person from the photo Lisbon had placed on the board back at CBI. He had the same brown hair, although slightly longer now, and his eyes were still that striking shade of blue. This was definitely Tony Needham.

He watched the man carefully as he spoke clearly to the hall, voicing his opinions on what seemed to be an on-going class debate about the varying influence of past American Presidents. It was not a subject Jane was particularly interested in, so he tuned out what Needham was saying and instead focused on _how_ he was saying it, taking in his body language and his manner.

Jane could sense right away that the young man before him was full of anger. He could tell by the way he stood in front of the others, almost demanding their attention, and at the way he glared at anyone who dared to interrupt him.

He was also a showman, using big gestures to put across his point. Jane had done the same in his past life on the stage. It was a classic diversionary tactic; no one watched the still hand while the other whirled around.

Jane sensed that Needham was someone who wanted attention, craved it, and was probably angry when he didn't receive what he felt was his share of the limelight. But there was something else there, something deeper, something that had triggered this need to be in the middle of things. And that, Jane decided, was why he believed that Tony Needham was their killer. Something that Jessica Freeman had done had caused Needham to snap, his control to break, and had led him to beat her and Liam McKenzie to death. He and the team just had to find out what the trigger had been so they could put this guy away. He sat himself down on the end of the back row and watched as Needham 'performed' to the hall.

* * *

"We video all of our lectures, so that students who are absent, or want to revisit the material can access them. We also have cameras in the hallway, a result of some scuffles earlier in the year, and a roll sheet for each class. I can get you access to all of them if that's what you need."

"Please," Lisbon said, glancing over the small set of screens in the security area off of the office.

"No problem," the man in front of her replied, and Lisbon watched as he made to step outside to arrange things with his Receptionist. She called out as he reached the doorway.

"Mr Holt?" The man turned to face her once more. "Could you possibly send those lecture videos and corridor footage to my colleague Grace Van Pelt at CBI? Here's her email address; she's our computer technician and she'll be able to determine if there's anything in those videos we can use. You can fax anything else over to my other colleagues." She gave Holt a card with the teams fax number and email address. The principal nodded, and left the room.

Principal James Holt had been incredibly accommodating to Lisbon as she'd asked her questions about Needham and the college. She had decided not to march down to the lecture hall to pick up Needham straight away, instead deciding to gather any potential evidence that they might be able to use against him if he proved to be a good and viable suspect. She had so far determined that Tony Needham was mostly a model student, a good timekeeper, someone handed in assignments before the deadlines, and a student who always had something to contribute to his classes. He even helped out with some of the colleges extra-curricular charity work.

Holt also revealed that Needham had been in a scuffle with another pupil in his first year at the college, the one that had resulted in his arrest, but that no charges had been brought about because it had been determined that he had been provoked. He had been placed on temporary probation due to his actions, but that period had passed long ago. Since then, Holt had had no reason to deem Needham a threat or danger to anyone in the college or beyond.

It conflicted completely with Lisbon's gut instinct. Something about Needham and the way he had looked in his photo had given her immediate suspicions about him, that there was more to him than bright blue eyes and a charming smile.

They definitely needed to dig deeper into Needham's past, but first she needed to find Jane and get him up to speed with her latest information.

She thanked Holt, who promised to send over all the information he had, and then wandered over to where the clerk had said where the American History lecture hall was situated.

* * *

Needham had finished his speech and had returned to his seat. The lecturer had called for a quick 10 minute break to allow everyone to grab a drink or visit the bathroom. Jane loitered at the top of the stairs and watched as Needham shrugged off some interest he received from a pretty young girl and headed up the stairs towards him. The man didn't even give him a second glance, and Jane made a split second decision. He stepped up beside Needham and started a conversation with their suspect.

"Interesting take you had there…" he said, by way of introduction.

"Thanks," Needham mumbled, giving Jane a strange look, clearly not wanting to talk. The two of them continued to walk down the hallway.

"I've never really thought about comparing modern day Presidents using centuries old ideals before, it's an intriguing idea on how we should view today's society and beliefs don't you think?"

"Sure, whatever," Jane sensed that Needham _really_ didn't want to be talking right now. Maybe if he just pushed a _little_ further.

"So, what do you think about…"

"Look, I don't know who the hell you are but just back off alright!" The threat was very clear in Needham's face, as he quickly turned to face Jane, grabbing his jacket in his hands, the anger flashing across his eyes. Jane held his hands up in surrender… maybe he had pushed just a little _too_ far. Oops.

"Sorry, sorry. I just thought it was interesting is all. Never studied American History at college, so it's all new to me," Jane hoped he could appeal to Needham's attention-seeking personality. It seemed to work to a certain extent, as Needham let him go.

"Yeah, well, s'all about looking at the past to help the future isn't it." Needham shrugged, his eyes narrowed at Jane. "Do you want something or what? Because I don't know you and I don't really like answering questions from people I don't know." Again, Jane could see the threat in his eyes, and he wondered if Needham had fingered him for someone who worked for the police the moment he'd started speaking. If he had, Lisbon was in for a really hard time when she caught up with him.

"Uh, no, just wondered if you wanted to have a conversation, but clearly you don't so that's fine, perfectly fine," Jane said, taking a small step back. "I'll, uh, just leave you to it."

And he quickly made his way down the corridor, passing other students as he went. He needed to find Lisbon and fill her in on what he'd found out, hopefully avoiding Needham as he did so.

* * *

Lisbon was around the corner from the lecture hall when she heard a commotion in the corridor. She turned the corner and saw a large group of students making their way back into Room 9B, the lecture hall she needed. Great, the lecturer must have given his students a break and now they were all filing back in for the next part of the lecture. She was happy to wait around, and stood slightly off to the side, watching as pockets of students wandered past, discussing the lecture, their plans for the evening or just commenting on random subjects. She kept a keen eye out for Needham, aware that he was likely to be in the lecture hall.

She had seen a more recent photo from the college's files, so she knew who it was that she was looking for. She spotted something then, what seemed to be a familiar set of blond curls, heading away from her down the corridor, but she dismissed it; Jane would have seen her and come over if it was him. She sighed and kept her eyes open.

She saw him then, wandering back from the bathroom. Tony Needham. Tall, well-built, he certainly looked like someone who could kill with a strike of a bat. She made her way over to him, trying to get past a large group of girls who were in the way.

"Tony Needham?" she said, calling out over the noise, "Mr Needham, can I have a word please?"

He turned and faced her then, a look of anger on his face. He moved himself into the middle of a group headed back into the hall and disappeared.

"Damn it," she muttered and waited as the last of the students filed in. She couldn't just go in and demand to speak to him, there was no telling what Needham would do; although from the flash of anger in his eyes, he didn't look like he was going to be the most welcoming of suspects. Just what she needed.

She peered into the lecture hall and tried to spot Needham, but gave up after a few seconds. She'd just have to wait him out and catch him at the end of the lecture. She rang Jane, but when she did so it went straight to voicemail. Knowing him, he was probably pissing off a completely irrelevant member of staff about something completely unnecessary. She didn't look forward to the paperwork that those actions would bring her.

She rang the others to get a quick update, then lent against the outside wall of the lecture hall. The class was due to finish in 20 minutes; she could wait…

* * *

Lisbon made her way down the corridor of the college, hoping to catch sight of Needham again. He hadn't reappeared after the end of the class, so she figured that he'd either ducked into the bathroom at some point soon after, or found an alternative way out of the lecture hall in a bid to evade her questions.

The corridor seemed too quiet, the commotion of the change in lesson a few minutes earlier seeming to have ended as soon as it had begun. Lisbon looked around; there was nobody in the hallway, no one who she could even ask as to the possible whereabouts of Needham. It was very irritating. Plus, Jane _still_ wasn't answering his cell, which was even more irritating. It was like trying to keep track of a child sometimes.

Suddenly, she spotted a partially opened doorway further down the corridor. It was far enough down the hall not to be spotted straight away, but close enough to the lecture hall that someone could possibly sneak in and out in a bid to hide from someone. A perfect hiding spot for Needham.

She made her way slowly towards the door, approaching it with caution. Needham was an unknown entity, although she had sensed from his initial reluctance to speak to her that he wasn't completely on the level.

Suddenly, the door flung open and she was pulled inside, a hand firmly placed over her mouth before she had any opportunity to make a sound. Her attacker grabbed both her hands with his larger one, giving him the chance to manoeuver her as he saw fit. The door was slammed shut behind her, leaving her and her assailant in pitch black darkness. She struggled, trying to break free from his grip, but the hands that held hers were strong and firm and didn't seem to have any intention of letting her go. She was pushed back against some shelving, the wood digging into her back and she gasped slightly in pain. She tried to think of a way out of this situation… how could she have been so stupid to wander down here when she suspected Needham to be around? Stupid move Teresa, stupid, stupid, stupid…

"Shhh Lisbon," a familiar voice murmured suddenly in her ear, "it's only me. Calm down woman! You'll give yourself a heart attack!"

She relaxed slightly at the words, and the hand over her mouth was lowered. It hovered close to her cheek, however, as if expecting to silence her again. His other hand still held both of hers, his thumb tracing circles on one of her wrists.

"Jane," she whispered harshly, anger lacing her tone, pissed that he had the audacity to grab her out of the corridor in such a manner. If she had been able to actually see him in the dark she would have glared at him. However, she just had to glare in what she thought was the general direction of his face; she could have been staring daggers at a box of pencils for all she knew.

Jane moved closer, once he realised that she probably wasn't going to hit him.

"Hi Lisbon, fancy meeting you here," was all that he said, before shuffling forward a little more, a stupid grin on his face.

_Honestly, _Lisbon thought, _did the man have __**no**__ concept of personal space?_ In answer to her subconscious question, Jane leaned in even further, his breath warm on her cheek as they stood silently in the cupboard. She felt like she was in the middle of one massive cliché, with _tension_ everywhere. It was unbearable. It was distracting. It was… wait… was Jane _sniffing_ her hair? She blinked in the darkness, trying to understand his actions. _What in the world was he doing? He couldn't just start sniffing her hair. It was weird. And maybe a little bit sexy, especially when it made him moan like he just had. But it was still weird._

"Why the hell did you drag me into a store cupboard Jane? I thought you were attacking me! I'm supposed to be tracking down Tony Needham for questioning. So are you, I might add. Just because you missed out on high school and college does not mean that I am going to make it up to you by necking in a stock room while we're supposed to be on a case!"

He moved slightly, and she could feel his chest moving swiftly up and down in the darkness. The damn bastard was laughing at her.

"You mean," he replied, his voice low and husky, "that you wouldn't mind making out in a stock room if we _weren't_ on a case? Because if you don't, I hear there's a very popular spot on the fourth floor at CBI. I think we could fit in a short session at about 3 tomorrow afternoon..."

She _did_ hit him then. Not hard, but enough to make him give a quiet yelp and step back slightly.

"Shut up. You know that's not what I meant. Idiot. And stop deflecting. Why am I now in a cupboard with the world's most insufferable man?"

"Because, my dear Lisbon, I may have accidently already spoken to Tony Needham and he wasn't very happy to see me or answer any questions, and they weren't even about the case, just about American Presidents and I wanted to let you know before you charged in head first that he may not be the most receptive to any form of questioning right at this moment." He said it in one breath, as if knowing that if he bombarded her with all the information at once, she might just forget that he'd disobeyed orders, again.

She sighed, exasperated. Then punched his arm. Or at least, what she thought was his arm. It could have been his chest, or his eye. Lisbon found that she didn't particularly care what part of him she'd caught.

"But why did you need to drag me into a store cupboard to tell me that? You know what; don't even bother to answer that. You shouldn't have spoken to Needham, he could be dangerous! For God's sake Jane, he's potentially killed two people with a view of killing more! Are you a complete idiot? And does this place not have a damn light? I want to be able to see you when I'm giving you a warning!"

All of a sudden, the tiny room filled with a dim light, a small bulb flickering to life above their heads. She blinked at the sudden change in lighting, and it was in that moment that Lisbon realised just _how_ close she and Jane were now, holed up inside this little room. His hands were placed at the sides of her head and he was leaning into her, his body no more than 6 inches from hers. It should have been uncomfortable, being so near to him that she could smell the faint scent of his cologne (Givenchy, she thought. Jane always did have expensive taste when it came to fragrances she'd noticed) and really, it kind of was. Their close proximity seemed to make her completely forget why it was she was actually here, and apparently, despite his laughter and feigned ignorance of the situation, the same could be said for Jane. At least, that was what his diluted pupils and slight frown was telling her. All the tension, all the attraction and feelings that had been circling them for the last week or so was just *there*, hovering, waiting uncomfortably for the dam to break. And God if she didn't want it to break right at this instant.

They said nothing in the dimly lit room, the moment dragging on. Jane stepped closer, eyes on her. She couldn't look away, didn't want to. Their moment was now; they were going to cross that line that one could never come back from and damn it if she wasn't looking forward to it.

"Lisbon… Teresa," he whispered into her ear, leaning into her, bodies pressed close, letting her know just what an effect their proximity was having on him. She groaned, low and deep, as he lightly nipped her earlobe.

He moved to gently press his lips to her throat, sucking lightly on her pulse point and the noise she made sounded like one of ecstasy. He rained kisses up and down her neck, his stubble grazing her softly, reminding her of the feel of his lips on her cheek the night before. Her hands reached round his waist and she pulled him even closer, gasping as the combination of his lips and his body so close to hers made her shiver. His lips moved further up her neck, across her jaw, her cheek again and finally, tortuously, the edge of her mouth.

Oh God, this felt so good, so amazing, so right … but it wasn't right… something wasn't right; they shouldn't be doing this… why shouldn't they be doing this…

"Needham," she breathed, trying to focus.

"Do you always say another man's name when someone's about to kiss you Lisbon? Because that's kind of rude." His voice was nothing but a whisper, low, seductive and caused her stomach to jolt with pleasure. His eyes were hooded and dark and he was close, _so close_, his mouth millimetres away. She could feel his breath, hot and heavy on her lips and it would take a tiny movement from either of them to close the gap, to give in to what they had been resisting for _so_ long.

She had to stop; they couldn't do this now… they had to wait. She put her hands on his chest and pushed him away slowly, groaning at the loss of contact between their bodies.

"We have to find Needham, have to question him about McKenzie and Freeman," she lowered her head, resting it on his chest, knowing that if she looked up at him then she'd give in, and they'd spend the next God knows how long making out, and probably more, in a college's stock room in the middle of the investigation.

Jane's voice sounded husky as he replied. They were both panting slightly in the quiet of the room.

"Needham, right, yeah. Questions. Ok."

"Come on, let's go find him. We can deal with this," she waved between them, "later."

He nodded but didn't move to follow her out of the stock room. When she looked at him angrily in the doorway, hands on hips, he shrugged and looked at her while running a hand through his hair, a look like a sad puppy on his face.

"I'm gonna need a couple of minutes here Lisbon, I'm not exactly comfortable and fit for company at the moment." He gestured vaguely to himself, causing Lisbon to blush when she looked down and understood what he meant. She should have realised, she'd felt how much he'd been enjoying the press of her body against hers in the cupboard; it wasn't as if he could turn it on and off like a switch.

"I'll wait for you outside, you just calm yourself down," and, in a moment of reckless abandon she winked at him before disappearing out of the door, laughing at his growl as she shut the door.

* * *

A/N 2.0: I apologise for my total lack of knowledge of American History… being a Brit, it's not something that I've ever really had to study, although it is something that intrigues me! I have no idea whether they would compare and contrast Presidents in that kind of lecture, but it worked as a way to get Jane and Lisbon from point A to B, so I just went with it!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary: **The chapter in which nothing seems to go completely to plan…

**Disclaimer:** The Mentalist doesn't belong to me, unfortunately.

**Warnings:** Some graphic descriptions, naughty words and dirty thoughts.

**Spoilers:** No major ones, but I would probably say this is set before the end of Season 3 so spoilers for who's in charge etc. And I guess therefore it's a little AU…

**Authors note: **Here I am, back again. I managed to find some time out my hectic week to fit in some writing time and this chapter is done as a result. I also found a little time to plan the next few parts of the story with a bit more detail, and I'm _pretty_ sure that this case should be wrapped up in the next 4/5 chapters (I think) and then I've definitely got an epilogue in the pipeline too. (Not to mention at least 2 possible one-shot ideas; but I'll reveal more about those later!)

Somewhat pushing the limits of the T-rating here, nothing too graphic, but let's just say that Jane and Lisbon wanted to finish what they started back at the college ;)

Anyway, onto the next chapter; enjoy, and don't forget, reviews are most welcome :)

* * *

They eventually found Needham sitting in the corner of the cafeteria. Once Jane had made himself presentable and the two of them had wandered into the lecture hall, they discovered that there was a second exit that Needham would have been able to use at the end of the class. It meant that they had lost valuable time in tracking down their suspect, and Lisbon was becoming increasingly angry that she had allowed herself to become so easily distracted by Jane and their actions in the stock cupboard. They definitely needed to discuss it at some point; she was just hoping to delay the inevitable for as long as she could, especially in the middle of a case.

They had asked Needham's lecturer where he may have gone, and, once they realised that it was lunchtime at the college, decided to hedge their bets and head to the cafeteria.

As she spotted Needham, hunched low over what looked like a generous portion of fries, Lisbon sensed Jane slightly stiffen beside her. Clearly he was concerned that Needham was dangerous, despite his apparent flippancy of the subject earlier. She glanced around the cafeteria, making a rough estimate of how many students and staff were around, and reached out and put a comforting hand on his arm.

"I'll be fine. There are plenty of witnesses around and you've seen me take out suspects twice his size if he decides to run."

Her words seemed to placate the man beside her a little. Still, he stayed close, as if determined to be her bodyguard. She would have chuckled at the absurdity of his actions if the situation were different. She knew, however, that she had to play this very carefully; there was no telling what Needham would do.

She moved quietly to stand beside their suspect, and glanced quickly at Jane before speaking, letting him know that everything would be fine.

"Tony Needham?"

Needham looked up, an angry look on his face. Lisbon sensed that he was a man who liked to be left alone, despite all of the praise and extra-curricular work he did. Judging by the fact that he had a whole cafeteria table to himself, it was obvious that everyone else knew this as well. It was just another hint at the man's potential instability.

"Who're you?" Needham didn't look impressed to see anyone.

"Agent Teresa Lisbon, CBI. This is my colleague Patrick Jane." She held up her badge by way of introduction, and then waved over at Jane, who had taken refuge on the other side of the table and was eyeing Needham with apprehension. Needham's eyes locked on Jane.

"You!" He pointed an accusing finger at Jane, glaring at him. "You were the one asking all those questions earlier. Figured you were a cop or something. No-one else has really cared that much about my views."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Jane replied, and Lisbon saw that he seemed relieved to have a cafeteria table between himself and Needham.

Lisbon tried to steer the conversation away from Jane's previous meeting with the suspect; knowing Jane as she did, he had probably pissed off Needham just enough that he would only take a little provocation to lash out. And that was something she really didn't need to be dealing with right now.

"We had a couple of questions we'd like to ask you Mr Needham. We were wondering if you would accompany us to our headquarters."

"Why me?"

"Two people have been murdered close to the college; we feel you may be able to provide us with some valuable information about their deaths."

"Murdered? Why would you think I'd know anything about some murders? Do you think I've done something wrong? Are you arresting me?" Needham was looked at them with wariness, as if trying to judge whether they had labelled him as guilty for something before they'd even questioned him. Lisbon was beginning to feel just a little apprehensive. The longer they stood here, the more attention they would attract, and she knew from past experiences that some suspects would react violently to having all eyes focused on them. She needed to calm the situation that was brewing and get Needham out of the cafeteria and back to CBI as quickly as she could. Jane was proving to be no help at all; he just stood there, hands in pockets, watching her and Needham have their conversation. Honestly, the man was quite useless in some respects.

"No, not at this time, but we do have some important questions, and at the moment you're the person we think could provide us with some answers."

Needham still looked at her warily, and she could sense that he was trying to decide whether to fight or flee. Eventually, after a few long moments, he seemed to decide that he was better off coming quietly.

"Yeah, ok. Whatever."

He stood up, and moved to throw the remnants of his lunch away. Lisbon and Jane escorted him, with slight apprehension, to the SUV, wary that he may decide to run at any time. Needham didn't say anything all the way to the headquarters and remained silent as they placed him in Interview 1. Lisbon found that the most worrying thing of all.

* * *

Rigsby caught the two of them after they'd left Needham in the care of one of the other agents, explaining that he had some had some more background on Jessica Freeman for them. He'd been digging into her past to try and see if there was any reason for her to have become a target. He handed over a thin file with the information he'd found.

"Nothing much really Boss. Worked her way through college; volunteered at a local orphanage and several homeless shelters while completing her nursing qualification, graduated pretty high in her class. Lived and worked in Sacramento until she met her husband, then moved out of state, still working as a nurse, then returned here to take a job at the hospital. I couldn't find anything to indicate why she was targeted like this. I'll take a look into the husband, see if there's anything there." He looked slightly disappointed in himself that he hadn't found anything of use. Lisbon knew that Rigsby was like the rest of them; frustrated and angry at the lack of progress in the case.

"No problem Rigs, thanks for looking into it. Leave a copy of the stuff on my desk as per usual, I'll have another scan through it later so I can let Hightower know. Get started on the husband as soon as." Lisbon smiled at him, and waved him in the direction of the bullpen.

"Sure thing Boss," the taller man replied as he headed off to start his next round of research. Lisbon hoped something would turn up soon.

Lisbon quickly found Cho and brought up to speed on their suspect and what she wanted from him; while she knew she was a very competent interviewer, Cho was the best. If Needham was guilty, Cho would find a way to wheedle it out of him. And, she thought, if that failed, she could always send in Jane. If Needham was like a majority of the people they interviewed, he'd probably confess if it meant he could punch the consultant. She and the rest of CBI had a good-humoured monthly pool on how many times Jane would be hit by a suspect or witness; they all figured they may as well take advantage of something that was inevitable as the rising sun.

She began to make her way over to the interview rooms, preparing to watch Cho question Needham. She spotted Jane in the break room; he had disappeared while she was talking with Cho, clearly having decided he needed a cup of tea.

"You coming?" She shouted over to him, nodding her head in the direction of the interview rooms.

"On my way," Jane replied as he turned around, a cup of tea in one hand and what looked like a mug of coffee in the other. "Here," he said, handing over the mug and Lisbon smiled as she breathed in the familiar scent.

"Thanks," she said, as they walked side by side to the interview rooms.

"No problem, thought you could do with one." He smiled at her, and held the door open for her as they took their places behind the glass partition, ready to watch the interview.

Needham was sat in the chair furthest from the mirrored glass, and Lisbon thought he looked confident, as if he didn't have anything to hide. If he did, Cho would surely find out. It was what he did best.

"You recognise this boy?" Cho was clearly going straight for the jugular; sliding a picture of Liam McKenzie across the interview table towards Needham.

"Nope, should I?" Needham folded his arm against his chest, and sat up a little straighter in his chair. It was clearly a defensive pose.

"What about her?" A photo of Jessica Freeman was placed in front of their suspect, and Lisbon watched closely for any flicker of recognition. She didn't see anything, so she turned to Jane, who was stood beside her, staring at Needham. He just shook his head slowly.

"If he does recognise her, he's doing a very good job of hiding it," was all he said.

Lisbon turned back to watch the rest of the interview. Cho had retrieved a third and final photo from the file he held.

"What about now?" He placed the photo in Needham's line of sight. "This was taken after someone tortured and beat Jessica Freeman to death."

"What the hell man? I don't need to see that!" Needham seemed to back away from the photo, putting his hands out in front of him as if to shield himself from the image.

"Someone took three days to beat her like this, to cause all of these injuries. Three days of pain and torture before hitting her so hard around the head that her skull practically disintegrated. Was it you? Did you stalk Jessica Freeman? Kidnap her?" Cho was relentless in his questioning. It was why he was the first port of call for anything of this nature.

"No!" Needham practically shouted, his hands still out. "It wasn't me; I never met either of them before in my life!" His eyes flashed up at Cho in panic as he motioned to the photos in front of him.

"If you've never met them, how did your DNA end up at the crime scene where Jessica Freeman's body was found?"

"What? I don't know! Honestly! I do a lot of charity work around town, maybe it got transferred somehow. I just know I didn't kill her."

"We have evidence that links you to the crime scene. And evidence from Jessica Freeman was found at the murder scene of Liam McKenzie. So that's at least 2 charges of murder, and one of kidnapping. Not to mention the torture, the beatings. You're looking at the death penalty Needham."

"It wasn't me!" Needham's panic had suddenly changed to anger. Lisbon noted that he clearly didn't take kindly to threats.

"Then where were you at 8:30 on the morning of the 14th and 4pm on the 17th? You better hope there were witnesses to whatever you were doing, or it's really not looking good for you."

Lisbon watched as Needham's face transformed in an instant; an almost smug smile emerging on his face as he took in Cho's words. She could sense she wasn't going to like the next thing that came out of their suspect's mouth.

"I was in lectures. Both times. Ask anyone, there are a few dozen witnesses who can testify to it and I'm pretty sure I'll be on video too. So I couldn't have murdered anyone." He lent back then, and seemed to almost relax into his chair.

"Shit," Lisbon muttered and, ignoring Jane's look of surprise at her curse, stormed out of the room, not bothering to listen to Cho's next question.

She reached the bullpen in record time, stopping by the side of Van Pelt's desk.

"Please tell me you've found something Van Pelt," she asked, a hint of desperation in her voice. She caught Jane following her in the corner of her eye. He hovered behind her, looking over Grace's shoulder.

"Just finishing up Boss. I took at closer look at the footage that the college sent over of the times of the murders." She brought up a couple of screen shots for her and Jane to look at. The timestamp on the first one showed 8:26am on the morning of the 14th. Lisbon could clearly make out Tony Needham moving to sit in a chair in the lecture hall.

"Damn it!" She said. There was no way that Needham could have killed Liam McKenzie and kidnapped Jessica Freeman at 8:30. The theatre was a good 15 minute drive from the college; he would never have made the lecture in time.

"Yeah, it's pretty airtight Boss."

"What about the footage from the time of Jessica Freeman's murder? Anything?"

"It's the same again Boss." Van Pelt looked up with a look of sympathy as she pulled up another photo, this time showing a shot from the corridor outside the lecture hall at 4:10 pm of the 17th.

Needham was clear to see again. There was no mistaking the brown hair and blue eyes and general build of their main suspect. She heard Jane sigh behind her, almost angrily. They both knew that with an airtight alibi such as this, and with the witness statements they would be able to collect, any charge against Needham in relation to the 2 murders would be laughed out of court by a judge. Everything they had on him was circumstantial. Damn it to Hell.

"Well, it seems pretty clear that he has an alibi for the two murders. I can't see any option at the minute but to let him go," Lisbon felt her shoulders slump slightly. She had been so sure that Needham had been their guy. But no-one could question the evidence to the contrary that they'd found.

"But," she continued, a look of determination on her face, "if anything, and I mean _anything_, comes up that even hints that Tony Needham is involved in these crimes in any way, we bring him in again. He's linked to this, I just know it; we just need to figure out how."

She didn't say anything else, didn't wait for a reply from Jane or Van Pelt. Instead, she marched straight back to the Interview 1 to tell Cho to let their only suspect go. She was pissed, and she knew this case was not going to get any easier. Just what she needed. Why could nothing just be simple? When did everything get so complicated? And that was just the case. Heaven forbid she took whatever was between herself and Jane into account; that was definitely asking for trouble.

* * *

Jane heard her soft footsteps in the hallway before the knock sounded on the attic door. Lisbon didn't say anything as she entered, sliding the door closed behind her. She wandered over to where he was seated at his small desk and reached over to steal one of the cookies that had fallen from the packet onto the table. Stills from the lecture video footage and witness statements lay across the table; he had been looking at them for the better part of half an hour but he kept reaching the same conclusion; there was no way that Needham could have killed Liam McKenzie, or kidnapped and killed Jessica Freeman. Here was irrefutable proof in front of him; Needham was in lectures at both times the crimes were committed, witnesses could attest to it, video footage would back their statements and despite the fact that Jane _knew_ that Needham was involved somehow, there was nothing he could do to prove it. He found the whole situation incredibly frustrating. He wondered briefly if Lisbon was feeling the same and figured she probably was.

She settled herself against the bed across from him, crossing her ankles and taking small bites from the snack she had pilfered. She still hadn't spoken, but Jane realised that she was in the middle of a deep thought process; that he needed to give her the time and space to work through whatever it was she was contemplating.

He watched her eat, take a bite, chew, swallow. His eyes were drawn to her lips. His memories took him back to when he had nearly kissed her in the cupboard. He had been _achingly_ close to feeling her lips on his, only to be interrupted by her damn moral obligations to her job. Not that he particularly minded; his first time kissing Lisbon should probably _not_ have been in some tiny cupboard while they were supposed to have been tracking down a suspect. She'd probably never have forgiven him.

They hadn't spoken about what had happened in the stock cupboard at the college yet; there hadn't really been an opportunity between tracking down Needham, watching the interview and having to release him. Jane had squirreled himself away up in his attic while Lisbon had been finishing up the release forms; he'd seen the fury she'd tried to hide in her expression, and he decided that trying to bring up anything to do with them would have probably resulted in a bloody nose. _Not _the most romantic of outcomes, it had to be said.

Lisbon finished the cookie, and folded her arms. Then, a couple of seconds later she unfolded them, put them by her side, then decided against it and refolded them. She was clearly nervous, and he had good reason to suspect why. She obviously didn't want to be having this conversation with him. Lisbon was probably like him; had been hit hard and fast by her feelings, had no idea what to do with them and was half hoping, half dreading that she'd have to deal with them.

Still, it probably wasn't doing her any good just working herself up like this. He knew he certainly didn't want to spend the rest of his life waiting for her to pluck up some courage to sort through whatever doubts and worries she had. It was always best to get these things out in the open.

"Problem Lisbon?"

She glared at him then. At least he'd gotten a reaction, which was good right?

"Yes. No. I don't know." She sighed, clearly torn up about the situation. If it had been any other time, Jane might have found her confusion adorable, or made a joke, teased her even. When whatever decision she made affected him as much as her though, he found he didn't have the heart to jest. So he just waited. Contrary to popular belief, he _could_ be patient when the time called for it.

"I just… I can't… we can't…it's… damn it Jane!" Her expression was swinging from confusion to frustration to downright anger and back again. Jane found he couldn't keep up.

"I just can't cope with it all at the moment you know? It's too much. There's whatever this is," she motioned between them, "which I know is important and I don't know what to do with that, and then there's this damned case, which we can't catch a single break on. I mean honestly… our best suspect has an alibi for both murders? His DNA was at the damn crime scene! There's no way he's not involved!"

She stood up then, too animated to stand still, and she began to pace, muttering to herself. Jane smiled slightly. She'd at least acknowledged that she viewed this _thing_ between them as important. He wondered if she'd even realised she'd said it. He'd been quite impressed with the way she'd completely deflected the issue though and turned her attention to the case. It was a page out of his own book; he was clearly influencing her behaviour more than she realised. He grinned slightly at that.

He watched as she ranted and raved and paced across the attic, partially concerned and partially amused.

Jane could see she was growing increasingly frustrated, angry even and he knew that the rest of the team would be feeling the same. This case was beginning to take its toll on everyone; they all knew Needham was involved somehow but that final, crucial piece of evidence was missing, just out of reach.

He lent back against the desk as Lisbon continued to pace in front of him, her arms motioning in front of her as she made a point. He wasn't really listening closely to what she was saying any more, but was getting the general gist of the conversation as she mentioned 'evidence', 'clearly up to something', and 'getting on my last damn nerve.'

Jane suddenly became increasingly concerned that Lisbon was going to work herself up into a state; and while he had to admit she looked incredibly beautiful as she became so impassioned, he knew he had to do something, had to get her to relax, and quickly.

So, he did the only thing that he could thing he could think of to calm her down, to distract her from the frustration of the case, at least temporarily. In for a penny, he thought, as he suddenly stood up and moved purposefully in front of her. Lisbon paused mid-sentence and just looked at him as he towered over her, a concerned look on her face. That was the Lisbon he knew and loved, always worried about others before herself.

He rested both of his hands on her shoulders and just looked at her, as if trying to find something deep in her soul.

"Jane? What's the matter?"

"Nothing," he said, moving a little closer, giving her an opportunity to run, break free and escape like she had in the store cupboard at the college, "nothing at all, I assure you."

He ran both his hands down her arms, delighting in the way she shivered, her breath hitching at his actions. He didn't break eye contact as his hands stoked the back of hers and finally rested on her hips. He figured there was no time like the present for them to face whatever this was; even if she hit him, at least he would have been able to distract her for a bit.

He took a deep breath and lent down without giving her another chance to back away, pressing his lips gently to hers.

It took Lisbon all of 2 seconds to respond, which delighted him immensely. She opened her mouth almost immediately, deepening the kiss. She tasted like chocolate and coffee and something that was uniquely Lisbon. He moaned softly into her mouth and used his hands on her hips to pull her closer. This is what he had wanted to do so badly in the Thomas Heights storeroom; to make her lose a little bit of control, to break the rules, to have her just feel him and only him.

There was no case now, no murders, no suspects. Just him and Lisbon, alone in their own world. The dam that had held back everything they had been experiencing for the last 10 days was crumbling with little resistance and Jane couldn't believe that he was here, kissing Teresa Lisbon. At last.

Her arms wrapped around him, encasing him in her embrace. One of her hands slipped into his hair, tugging gently on his curls.

He found that standing in the middle of the attic was not completely conducive to kissing Lisbon as thoroughly as he wanted. So, he used his hands on her hips to walk them slowly backwards towards the bed while he planted kisses on her neck. He had found a particularly sweet spot on her neck that he planned to take full advantage of. She gasped as her back hit the cold steel of the frame and he wasted no time in breaking contact with her lips, kissing her neck while lifting her gently so that she sat on the edge of the bunk. She was a little bit closer to his height now, and he found he didn't have to lean down quite so much to reach her lips. Her arms reached round his neck, and she used them to pull him to her again.

He rested his hands on either side of her thighs, stroking his thumbs against the outside of her legs while he continued to kiss her. She spread her legs then, and used his jacket to pull him forward so that he was flush against her. It was his time to moan now, and he pressed himself closer. God, this felt amazing. Why had they never done this before? The two of them had wasted so much time. Well, Jane decided, they were definitely going to make up for it, starting from now.

While he had been lost in his thoughts, Lisbon had shoved his jacket off his shoulders and had begun to undo the buttons of his vest. Jane realised he was falling behind, so moved his hands to her shirt. He was thankful for the day's heat, as Lisbon was only wearing a t-shirt.

He playfully nipped her bottom lip as he nudged her slightly, pushing her back. Lisbon got the hint and lent back, her hands resting further back on the bed to support her. Jane bent over her, kissing her deeply. He savoured the moment, his hands resting on the hem of her shirt, thumbs tracing gentle patterns on her ribs. He began lifting the edge of her shirt then; slowly, tortuously; bunching it in his fists as he slowly followed its path up her body. He kissed every new piece of skin he revealed, relishing her moans as he placed gentle kissed on her stomach, her gasps as his stubble grazed her sensitive skin, her pleas for him to move faster as he reached the soft cotton of her bra. Her hands were gripping the bed in pleasure, her knuckles white, and then suddenly she sat up, pulling him to her for a brutal kiss. Soon his vest was gone, his shirt half undone, and everything just felt right. She lifted her arms and, knowing not to turn down such an invitation, he grabbed her shirt again, and went to lift it over her head. He did so, breaking contact with her lips for a fraction of a second before dropping the shirt next to her on the bed and kissing her again. He couldn't get enough of her, and it seemed she felt the same.

If he thought that Teresa Lisbon with a shirt on was amazing, Teresa Lisbon without a shirt was _stunning_. He pulled away to look at her, to check she was really there, that he wasn't just indulging in a particularly vivid daydream. Her lips were full and red, her face was flushed and she was beautiful. He was pretty sure he was leering at her, but he didn't particularly care. None of his fantasies involving Lisbon (and there had been quite a few recently) could live up to the sight before him.

He leaned forward; placing a sweet kiss on her lips as he moved closer. His hands tickled her ribs, moving up, his thumbs lightly tracing her breasts through the cotton of her bra. She moaned then smiled against him and he gasped as he felt her small hand wander down his chest and over his stomach. Oh God, he was not going to survive this. At all. She reached his waistband, her hand tortuously light against his body. She leaned in, kissing his neck then nipping at his ear lobe. Her hand moved lower, _lower_ and then…

A loud noise shattered the illusion.

"Ugh, whassat?" He asked, barely moving his lips from hers. Her hand had stopped its descent and Jane nearly groaned in frustration.

"Cell, in m'pocket."

"Leave it 'lone," he said, leaning in closer again, resting his hands on her hips once more.

"Could be'portant."

"Mmmm, this is better," he kissed her deeply again, hoping that whoever was calling would go away. It was late at night now; they could try again in the morning. Lisbon had much more important things to be doing than answering whatever asinine questions the caller had to ask. The noise stopped, only for Jane's cell to start vibrating on the desk almost immediately, a silly ringtone emerging from the device. He practically growled and tore his lips away from hers.

"It's Rigsby," he mumbled, his lips still hovering close to hers.

"Must be important for him to ring you,"

"Shh woman, I'm important, you said so," he whispered, knowing deep down that the moment was broken, couldn't be retrieved. Rigsby's call had managed to remind her that they were still on a case. Again.

Could the two of them just not catch a break?

He rested his forehead on hers, closing his eyes and taking a deep shuddering breath as he tried to calm his heart rate down. He could hear her panting slightly, the feel of her breath on his throat and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, a small shudder flowing through him. They did nothing for a minute, just revelling in finally, _finally_, relieving some of the tension that had been ever present since the incident in her office all those days ago.

He took in another deep breath and decided that he needed to say something, anything, before they went back to reality. He moved back, only slightly, but just enough so that he could see her face. He was reluctant to let go of her now that he had her in his arms (he was known to be possessive after all), and he slowly opened his eyes. She was beautiful. Stunning. Lisbon's lips were swollen and red from their kisses, her hair slightly less than its usual perfect and she look completely dishevelled. There was a deep blush of arousal that started in her cheeks and followed a path down her body. It took all of Jane's strength not to push her back down on the bunk and just take her. Oh God, now the thought was in his head and he couldn't shake it.

Images flowed through his subconscious; Lisbon underneath him, begging him for more, Lisbon on top of him, using him for her own pleasure; Lisbon lent over her desk, the two of them on his couch, on _her_ couch, in the SUV… oh he was in serious trouble. Very very serious trouble. He moaned suddenly, low and deep, the sound echoing through the silent attic. Ok, he needed to step back, put some room between them. Right now, right this instant. Right… after he held her for a little longer. Damn it.

Lisbon had opened her eyes at his moan, and what he saw there made him moan all over again. Her eyes were so dilated that he could hardly see the beautiful green. He reluctantly took a step back, not far, but enough so that he could restrain himself just a little.

Jane didn't know what to say. He wanted to extend the moment forever; to stay in the attic with her, make her forget about the case, hell, make her forget her own name if he could. Ok, he needed to say something. Something that would not scare her away, something to try and put across just what it was he actually felt.

"Hi," he murmured after a couple of moments. Yeah, real smooth Jane, he thought to himself.

"Hi," she whispered in return.

They lapsed into silence again briefly, before Jane decided it was probably best if they confronted the rather large elephant in the room.

"That was…uh… that was good." Oh. Apparently kissing Teresa Lisbon had caused his brain to melt.

"Yeah…good…very good, nice." Ha! He was amused to find that he'd apparently had the same effect on her.

"I don't regret this you know," he stated, moving forward slightly and lifting her head up a little using a long finger under her chin. He looked into her eyes, trying to make her understand just what this had meant to him. She gave him a lazy smile in return.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Me either."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Her eyes were practically twinkling, and he was pretty sure his were doing the same. He knew they were definitely sharing the dopiest grins possible. Oh God, it seemed they'd both become the soppiest people in the world after one round of kissing… his reputation was ruined.

She suddenly looked concerned, and he knew that her moral instincts were kicking in once more. They _were_ in the middle of a multiple murder investigation after all.

He reached out and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder; hoping to distract her enough to prevent them from having this conversation for just a little bit longer.

"This probably isn't the best time to be dealing with this… us," she said, and he could hear a trace of regret in her words.

"Mmm," he agreed, slightly nuzzling her hair, "you know you smell of cinnamon and apple? S'nice." Ah, there was his soppy side again.

"Jane, I'm serious. We can't keep getting distracted like this in the middle of a case. It won't end well."

"I know, I agree. We should definitely not be doing this," he kissed her lips softly, "or this," he sucked on her neck, "right about now." He kissed her lips again, and Lisbon deepened it a little before pulling away.

Lisbon smiled at him then, and then suddenly seemed to realise that they were still half naked. She half-heartedly pushed him away. She reached for her shirt and pulled it on over her head, looking at him almost shyly. He did up his shirt but left the vest where it lay. When they were clothed again, he reached forward and enclosed her in a hug, pressing a soft kiss on her cheek. She squeezed him briefly, not saying anything as she reached for the cell in her pocket, quickly calling Rigsby back. Jane kept his arms round her, giving her enough room to move, but keeping her close nonetheless.

"Rigsby, it's Lisbon. What's up?"

Jane held her, hoping to hear Rigsby's half of the conversation, but Lisbon just rolled her neck slightly and carried on.

"Yeah, sorry, was in the middle of doing something." Jane thought that sounded lame, even by her standards. The 'something' she had not quite been 'doing' decided that now would be a good time to pull her closer to him and start kissing her neck. Lisbon fought to hold back a moan, while trying to push him back. Jane tried hard not to chuckle.

"Err, no, haven't seen him but you know what he's like. He's probably out causing trouble somewhere. I'll try and get hold of him in a minute," she replied, and then gasped as Jane took the opportunity presented to him and murmured, "Will you now? Please, give me all the filthy details Lisbon," right in her ear, intentionally low and husky. He wasn't too sure, but he thought she may have moaned just a little; he was too distracted by the taste of her earlobe as he nipped it gently.

There was a pause as Rigsby said something down the phone.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine, just got something in the back of my throat, you know how it is. What can I do for you?"

Another, longer pause. Rigsby was obviously giving her new information about the case.

"Mmmmm," was all Lisbon said as Jane sucked on her neck, before she realised that it probably wasn't a suitable response to whatever it was that Rigsby had told her. "I mean, right, he's clearly escalating in terms of violence. Which means we probably don't have long until he kills again. This is his second intended victim in 72 hours, plus Liam McKenzie."

Jane immediately realised that the case had taken another turn, and regrettably stepped back. It was all very well having fun at Lisbon's expense while she was having a normal conversation with Rigsby, but when serious developments with the case were involved? Definitely a no-no.

He thrust his hands in his pockets as Lisbon replied to something else Rigsby said with a "yeah, I'll find him and we'll meet you there. See you in half an hour," and ended the call.

"They found another body," she said at his questioning look. "A John Doe, but same MO as before. Dumped in a building site about 3 miles from where Liam McKenzie was found. Lots of blood, definitely been tortured, lots of similar wounds to Jessica Freeman."

"Damn," was all Jane could really think to say. While he knew that whoever was committing the murders was likely to have other victims in mind, he had hoped that they would have more time before they killed again. And now it seemed that someone else had been unlucky enough to lose their lives.

He watched as Lisbon slid from the bed, moving to stand in front of him. She moved forward and placed a soft kiss on his cheek; reminiscent of the one he had gifted her. Had it really only been the night before? So much had happened between them since then, it seemed like a lifetime ago.

"I promise that we'll deal with this. That we'll have a talk and work out just what it is that we want. But we've got to wait. There's too much at stake Jane. I don't know if I can do my job properly if I'm thinking of doing this all the time. You're distracting enough as it is!" He didn't know what to say, so decided it was better to say nothing at all. He understood her point. It wouldn't be fair on the team, nor on the families of the victims if they kept becoming distracted while trying to find a psychopathic killer. But just because he knew it, didn't mean that he agreed with it. But he found he was willing to do almost anything for Teresa Lisbon, so he nodded, picked up his vest and jacket and motioned for her to lead him out of the room.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary: **The chapter in which there's another twist in the tale…

**Disclaimer:** The Mentalist doesn't belong to me, unfortunately.

**Warnings:** Some graphic descriptions, naughty words and dirty thoughts.

**Spoilers:** No major ones, but I would probably say this is set before the end of Season 3 so spoilers for who's in charge etc. And I guess therefore it's a little AU…

**Authors note: **Hello everyone! I know it's been a while, but I took some much needed downtime during the 10 days I had off work (plus there was the whole flying to a different country thing!) But I'm back and ready to return to this fic to ensure that it's finished reasonably quickly. The plot takes another turn from now on, but stick with me, I'm pretty sure I've thought it all through ;) It's been a little weird trying to get my head back into this, so apologies if this chapter isn't quite up to par!

From what I've planned out, there's about another 3 chapters, plus a short epilogue of this to go (not to mention the 2 one shot ideas I've had so far based off of this story). I've also started roughly planning what I think will end up being a sort of Season 5 AU thing that will go wildly away from canon at the end of 04x23. But that's still definitely in the 'oh that might be a good plot, how on earth can I make it work' kind of stage!

Anyway, back to the current WIP ;) Reviews are most welcome; let me know what you think :)

* * *

Jane lent back against his couch, carefully sipping his cup of tea and watching for movement at the elevators. It was 6:30 am, and he'd been up for at least an hour scouring through the most recent leads in the investigation. Tiredness flowed through him, his constant companion. He'd only managed to get a few hours of sleep since they'd returned from the crime scene.

It had been brutal, more so than Jessica Freeman's. He still vividly remembered the sound of the poor security guard who had found the body retching into a can as they arrived. Jane shuddered slightly; the man had been right to lose his dinner.

Whereas Jessica Freeman had been battered, bruised and beaten over a period of days, their newest victim had been given the same treatment in what seemed to be a matter of hours. His kneecaps had been smashed, as had his ankles, legs and arms, and it looked as if several of his fingers had been broken with something other than a bat. The head had been almost completely obliterated. Very little remained that one could recognise as human; blood, gore and brain matter staining the victims clothes and the ground on which his body had been dumped. The only way they could really tell it was a man was the fact that he was naked, laid out like Jessica Freeman had been.

He and Lisbon had surveyed the scene quietly and effectively, both of them trying to comprehend what had happened. Jane knew that Lisbon was also coming to terms with the fact that Needham had been in custody while the body had been dumped; they'd checked the timings with the guard at the site once his stomach had settled a little. There had been nothing to identify their victim, and Lisbon had left that job to the capable team in forensics. They had told them that there was a chance they could have an ID later that morning, but it all depended on just _who_ their victim had been when he had lived.

The coroner had come and gone and the team were looking around the scene once last time when Lisbon had nudged him and told him she was heading back, asking him if he wanted a lift. The fact that she hadn't been willing to abandon him here after their actions in the attic had given him some reassurance that when they had the opportunity, she probably wasn't going to run from whatever it was between them. He knew now that she felt as strongly as he did; he just needed to convince her somehow that he was worth the effort. Jane had figured he would probably have to put a bit of extra effort into not pissing her off so regularly if he actually wanted to be in a relationship with her… although, he'd thought to himself as he'd followed her to the car; he'd always been an advocate of make-up sex. Jane had smiled slyly to himself as he had settled himself into the SUV, chancing a glance at the woman next to him. If both of their reactions over the past couple of days were any indication, when they actually got around to being together Jane had a feeling it was going to be amazing. He couldn't wait to close this case and have the opportunity to explore their new relationship more thoroughly.

Lisbon had dropped him off at CBI and promptly left to get some sleep of her own. He'd returned to the attic and had tried to sleep, but his brain wouldn't stop going over what he and Lisbon had done on that same bunk a few hours before. It seemed that his subconscious wanted to analyse every moan, shudder and gasp that Lisbon had made while he had held her, and, as delightful as it would normally be, Jane found it incredibly distracting. She had been right; there was no way that either of them would be able to concentrate on their jobs if they had taken it any further.

So, Jane had got up again, got in his car and driven back to his long-stay motel room. It had quickly become apparent that a couple of hours sleep was all he was going to get. So, he'd decided to go back go CBI to carry on looking into the case. Hence why he was here, on his couch, waiting for the rest of the teams arrival.

He was on his second cup of tea, 20 minutes later, when Lisbon turned up. She waved a little, blushing slightly and muttered a quick 'morning', before disappearing into her office.

Jane suspected that her mind had been offering her replays of the previous night's actions as well and now she wasn't entirely sure what to do. He smiled and stood up, carefully placing his tea on his rarely-used desk. She might not know how to handle it, but he did; pretend like nothing had happened and carry on as usual. Until there was no case of course. Then all bets were off.

He didn't bother to knock as he entered the office. Lisbon had placed her bag onto her desk and was currently rummaging through it, obviously trying to locate something.

"Morning Lisbon!" He attempted to make himself sound overly cheery; he knew she hated that, it always made her suspicious.

As if reading his mind, she looked up sharply at him, an eyebrow raised.

"What have you done?" He didn't say anything, just grinned at her. "God Jane, I leave you alone for a few hours and you manage to cause some sort of trouble. Who should I be expecting a call from? Bertram? Hightower? The Mayor? Or maybe all three?" She looked tired and frustrated. _And beautiful_, his mind provided.

Jane held up his hands in surrender, an affronted look on his face.

"Lisbon, I'm insulted! Here I am attempting to cheer you up when you clearly haven't had much sleep, or coffee if I'm judging the look on your face correctly, and the only thing you can think to do is to presume that I've caused some sort of international incident." He put on his best 'kicked puppy' face and looked at her. Lisbon only sighed and waved a hand at him.

"Ok Jane, I'm sorry. You're right. I ran out of coffee this morning so I've not had my fix yet. Plus, I only got about 2 hours sleep because I was thinking about y…uh, the case." Her cheeks quickly flushed with a beautiful red. His suspicions had been correct then; she'd had a restless night because of him. Good. He shouldn't be the only one to suffer. They were in this thing together after all.

Lisbon seemed to want to ignore it, so Jane did too. He folded his arms and watched as looked up at him.

"The others are on their way up; they were pulling into the parking lot as I walked in. Hopefully it shouldn't be too long until we have an ID. Forensics did say they hoped to have something by later this morning."

Lisbon had abandoned looking for whatever she had been after in her bag, and had instead decided to wander across to get some coffee from the break room. Jane followed her, picking up his cup of tea en route and leaning against the counter as she flicked on the coffee machine, carefully sipping the refreshing liquid as he watched her.

They settled into a semi-awkward silence. Jane knew that they both wanted to talk about the previous night before they'd had to go to the crime scene, but he also acknowledged that broaching the subject now would definitely lead to distraction and might even lead to the ending of their relationship before it had really begun. Which wasn't really the outcome he was looking for.

So, Jane settled for quietly commenting on what he'd noticed in his perusal of the crime scene photos while he had been awaiting everyone's arrival.

He'd just reached a particularly interesting observation about the viciousness of the blows to the head when the other three members of the team rounded the corner. They seemed to be carrying takeaway bags from Marie's. At least, Grace and Cho were; Rigsby had already stuffed his pastry based breakfast into his mouth. Jane and Lisbon both waved at them, Jane carrying on with the topic at hand.

"…hit at least 20 times over the head I think, with a bat and a lot of power, to ensure that his face and skull became that wonderful mix of smushyness and gore that we all appreciated last night. It takes a lot of force to crack open someone's skull, let alone make it resemble an egg dropped from a great height. I mean, did you see the amount of brain that was left on his clothes. That's not just spur of the moment anger. That's a whole new level of resentment and loathing."

Jane finished his observation and turned to look at the others. Lisbon had poured Grace and Cho a coffee each, and both their cups were frozen halfway to their mouths at Jane's description, both of them glaring at him slightly. Rigsby, still chewing his pastry, started to look at little green, obviously remembering the horrific sight they had discovered the previous night. Jane almost laughed as the taller man struggled to swallow his food. Rigsby glared at him.

"Not cool man, not cool." Rigsby placed the rest of his pastry on a plate and grabbed some water, still looking a little pale.

Jane just shrugged and sipped his tea, grinning slightly while Grace decided that it was time to change the topic of conversation.

"Any new leads yet Boss?" She said, turning to Lisbon, who was devouring her bear claw; completely unfazed by Jane's graphic observation. She shook her head.

"No. I'm still waiting to hear back from forensics with an ID. What I _can_ say is that there's no way Tony Needham could have dumped the body; he was here at the time. They had to release him while we were out at the scene; our evidence wasn't enough to hold or charge him, not with the alibis provided by the video. But still, there was no way he could have dumped the body."

Everyone in the team shook their head solemnly. They were all convinced that Needham had _something_ to do with the murders of Liam McKenzie and Jessica Freeman, as well as their new mystery victim, but there was no way of proving it. This case was proving to be one of the most frustrating they had ever investigated. They all wandered back into the bullpen. Jane took his usual position on the couch and watched as the rest of the team sat at their desks, turning their bodies so they could see Lisbon. She had lent against the front of the large board, holding her coffee in one hand and was waving vaguely at the pictures stuck to it. The faces of Liam McKenzie, Jessica Freeman and Tony Needham all stared out at them.

Lisbon sighed before continuing.

"If Tony Needham didn't have anything to do with the murders or the dumping of the body, we need to find out who did. Let's go back over everything we've found out so far. Re-interview anyone you feel you need to again; get _every_ bit of information out of our witnesses and victim's families. The smallest omission on their part could just be the lead we need to break this case. Cho, Rigsby. Go and have another word with Liam McKenzie's family; try and find out if he or Andrew mentioned seeing anyone acting suspiciously lately when they'd been hanging out. Van Pelt, go over the footage from the college again; we may have missed something first time round. Jane and I will head off to Alex…"

Lisbon's cell rang in her pocket, interrupting her mid-flow. She reached into her jacket and pulled it out, reading the Caller ID quickly. Jane watched as she looked up at the team, her eyes quickly flicking to his.

"It's forensics."

Jane listened in silence as she took the call.

"Agent Lisbon… yes, that's it; Jane Doe found over at HL Constructions… you're sure? Excellent, send over what you have. Thanks. Goodb… sorry? Say that again…. How many times did you ch… three? And you're positive it's a match? Right. OK. Send it through ASAP. Thanks again, you may have just helped up crack this case. Bye."

Jane watched as Lisbon ended the call and stared briefly at her phone, a look of confusion on her face.

"Boss? Everything ok?" Cho asked, concern written on his usually neutral features. Lisbon looked up.

"Yeah everything's fine. Great in fact. I think. ID came back as Lucas Johnson, 40, originally from Sacramento, mixed bag history wise. He's dabbled in drugs, assaults and the like, spent time in and out of prison over the last 20 odd years. Seemed to have been making amends though, had been working as a chef in a local homeless shelter since his latest release a year or so ago."

"So why the look of confusion," Jane asked, moving to stand next to her.

"Well, apparently there was a partial DNA match to another sample on our case. Forensics checked it three times just to be sure, and assured me that there had been no cross contamination."

"So what was the match, and why the need to check it?" Rigsby was leaning forward in his chair, intrigued by the turn of events.

"Well, it seems that Lucas Johnson is in fact the biological father of none other than Tony Needham."

Jane looked at her in shock, and saw the expression mirrored on the other members of the team. What the hell was this case going to throw at them next?

* * *

Jane and Lisbon sat uncomfortably on the pristine sofa that belonged to Sarah and Mark Needham. They had arrived a few minutes previously and Lisbon had noticed that the couple looked distracted, as if they knew something was wrong. It had, after all, been less than 24 hours since CBI had been round to talk to them the first time, in a bid to find out more information about their son. Who, Lisbon considered, actually wasn't their son after all. Forensics had confirmed that neither Sarah nor Mark's DNA was a positive match to Tony Needham, which had led them to only one conclusion…

"Why didn't you mention that Tony was adopted Mrs Needham?" Lisbon asked, looking at the mother of their prime suspect. If they hadn't had anything to hold him before, the fact that his biological father had been tortured and killed in a manner similar to a crime in which he'd already been associated meant that Lisbon knew they certainly did now. She had Cho back at CBI working on obtaining a warrant for Needham's residence as they spoke.

Sarah Needham shook her head, as if trying to focus on something in particular. She gave a small smile as she looked at Lisbon and the man sat beside her.

"We never really think of him as adopted if I'm honest. We got him as a baby, a couple of weeks old really. I believe his mother died at childbirth, and we had been trying for many years to conceive, as Mark and I desperately wanted a family. Unfortunately, we found out I couldn't have children, so we put ourselves down to adopt at one of the local orphanages. Tony was born, and we were next in line as it were so we both went to see him and we just fell in love. He was bundled up in a little cream blanket, and had those gorgeous blue eyes, just staring up at us." Mrs Needham's eyes glistened, reminiscing. Her husband took her hand, and spoke quietly.

"Since that moment he's been our son, our Tony. We never thought about the fact that his *real* parents were someone else. He was just our boy."

Lisbon watched as Jane nodded next to her and leaned forward slightly, placing his elbows on his knees. She figured he was either going to give the Needham's a very insightful observation about themselves, or he was going to say something that would result in him receiving a bloody nose and another official warning from Hightower. She was surprised when he spoke softly, his words quiet and determined.

"Does Tony know that he's adopted?"

Both of Needham's parents shook their heads, and it was his father who answered.

"He doesn't know. We never felt the need to tell him. We didn't want to upset him when he was younger, and as he got older it became irrelevant. He's doing so well at college that we didn't want to rock the boat. We've considered telling him many times, but we've never felt we _had_ to."

Sarah Needham nodded and sighed, looking at Lisbon and Jane.

"We've always told ourselves that it doesn't matter who his biological parents were, we love him as if he's our own flesh and blood, and that's all he needs."

Lisbon looked at Jane, silently asking him if there was anything else he wanted to ask. He shook his head and looked back at the couple in front of them. Lisbon pulled out a small photo from her pocket and passed it over to the Needham's.

"Do you know this man? Ever seen him around?"

Both the Needham's shook their heads.

"Should we know him? Who is he?" Mark Needham asked, a look of concern on his face.

Lisbon shook her head slightly before answering, trying to convey a sense of calm.

"You shouldn't know him, no. But unfortunately, this gentleman is the reason we're here. His name is Lucas Johnson, and his body was found late last night."

"And you think it has something to do with Tony? That's impossible though, because he was answering your questions yesterday evening, so he couldn't have been involved." Sarah Needham seemed almost relieved as she processed the new information.

"I'm afraid, while it seems that your son didn't have anything to do with the discovery of Mr Johnson's body, he is intrinsically involved with this man."

Both the Needham's looked at her and Jane in confusion and Lisbon could see that they were trying to find plausible links between their son and the man who had been murdered.

"In the course of the investigation, we have discovered that Lucas Johnson's DNA matches with Tony's."

"And what does that mean?" Mark Needham asked, his hands kneading in his lap. Lisbon could almost feel the nervous energy streaming off the couple in front of her. A quick glance at Jane confirmed that he was definitely feeling the same.

"It means, Mr Needham, that Lucas Johnson was Tony's biological father. And someone murdered him in a similar fashion to the other victims in our case. The same case that Tony has been linked with."

There was something resembling stunned silence in the living room of the Needham's house; the two couples on opposite sofas caught up in a bizarre staring contest. Lisbon could see that Jane's eyes were flitting between the couple opposite, and she knew that he was trying to determine if either of them had been lying about not knowing their latest victim. Sarah Needham was staring at her, and Mark Needham's gaze was torn between his wife, who looked on the verge of tears, and Jane, who was still quietly observing the two of them. Eventually, Sarah Needham spoke up.

"What does this mean for Tony?"

Lisbon took a deep breath before starting; she had a feeling that this conversation would go one of two ways: a quiet acceptance from the parents, or a deep resentment would set in and she and Jane would quickly find themselves in a spot of trouble. There was no delaying the inevitable however.

"It means, Mrs Needham, that Tony will have to come in and answer a few more questions for us. It's too much of a coincidence that his biological father has now been killed, especially after Tony's DNA was located at a similar crime scene. While he may not have been directly involved in the murders or disposal of the bodies, there is a strong chance that he knows or is familiar with whoever is committing these crimes. If he is helping someone in any way, he could be charged as an accessory to murder. Or worse."

There was a look of terror on Sarah Needham's face as she faced the prospect of her son spending a large part of his life in prison. Her husband's face reflected the same sentiments. Lisbon knew that the next few moments would determine if they had Tony Needham's parents on their side or not. She was thankful that Jane had remained silent, lost in his observations.

"Do you know where your son is now Mr Needham?" Lisbon asked, hoping that their prime suspect hadn't decided to flee the state in the few hours since his release.

"Yes. He went to college again today. Said he wanted to carry on as normal after yesterday. He should be in lectures at the moment I think."

"Ok, good. We'll send someone over to pick him up for questioning." At the horrified look on Mrs Needham's face, Lisbon quickly continued in order to calm the other woman's nerves. "That doesn't mean that we're charging him with anything Mrs Needham. As I said before, it's possible that it's all a coincidence, but we have to make sure that Tony isn't protecting anyone. And if he is, we'll work with him to make sure that we get him the best deal we can if it comes to it. You're welcome to come to CBI to meet Tony if you wish, offer him some support?"

Lisbon could see the couple in front of her almost slump in their seats, the situation almost overwhelming them. She decided that now would be the best opportunity to leave.

"Jane, any other questions before we go?" Jane had stood up as if to leave, but had turned at the edge of the sofa, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Yeah, actually. Just one." He turned then to Mr and Mrs Needham, looking at them both as he spoke. "Can I just ask which orphanage you adopted Tony from?"

"Of course. It was..oh…um. Mark?" Mrs Needham looked to her husband for an answer.

"Yeah, it was, uh, it was Sunny Hills Orphanage. Yeah, that's the one. Just outside Sacramento if I recall. Nice place; lots of colours."

Jane nodded before turning once again towards the door. Lisbon could tell his brain had latched onto something important… he was full of energy that only appeared when he had a good lead or a new plan.

"Thank you again for your co-operation Mr and Mrs Needham. I'll obviously keep you apprised of the situation with Tony, and as I said, you're quite welcome to offer him your support at CBI."

The couple didn't reply, just nodded blankly and moved to show them out of the small townhouse. Soon, Lisbon and Jane were back in the SUV and headed back to CBI. Lisbon turned to the man beside her, who still looked deep in thought.

"What's up?" She asked, hoping that he might use her to bounce ideas off of.

"Just something I remember Rigsby telling us about Jessica Freeman's work history."

"What about it?"

"Something about her working in an orphanage I think. Or volunteering. One of the two. Let me give Grace a call, she should be able to find out. I've got a feeling that Jessica worked at the same orphanage that Tony Needham was adopted from." He was already pulling his cell from his pocket and dialling Grace's number as Lisbon steered them closer to HQ.

"Hi Grace," Jane said cheerily as the woman on the other end of the line picked up. "Yeah, we're ok thank you. Just left the Needham's and on our way back…hold on, let me put you on speaker." Lisbon watched as he pressed the required button and Grace's voice filtered through the phone.

"Hey Boss. I've not found anything new on the footage; everything is still pointing to Needham having an airtight alibi."

"That's ok Grace," Lisbon replied. "Jane wanted to call for something else actually, rather than to check up. Have you got Jessica Freeman's file to hand?" She and Jane heard a faint rustling on the other end of the line as Grace moved things out of the way on her desk to locate the required file.

"Got it here Boss, what do you need?"

"Can you check Jessica's work history for us? Is there any mention of an orphanage?"

"Uh, I'll have a look for you Boss." The younger agent sounded confused but followed the request. There was more rustling and the sound of pages being turned as she tried to find the relevant information.

"Ah yeah. Here it is. Says she volunteered at an orphanage while she was completing her nursing course, was there for about 8 months overall."

Lisbon turned to Jane, who smiled at her. It seemed that they may finally have the break in the case that they needed.

"What was the name of the orphanage Grace?" Jane asked, leaning closer to the phone as if it would have some effect on the outcome.

"Hold on, let me just find it. There we are. Sunny Hills Orphanage. It's just outside Sacramento."

Lisbon let out a sigh of relief that she hadn't realised she was holding. Maybe this was the final piece of evidence, circumstantial or no, that would help them charge Tony Needham with something. Or at least give them some leverage in any of the interviews that they conducted with him from now on.

"That's excellent Grace. Thank you. Could you possibly find out the full address and send it to us? Get some contact details as well, we'll be needing to head over there asap."

Grace said it was no problem and Lisbon was just about to hang up when she heard another familiar voice drift through the speaker.

"That the Boss?"

"Yeah… you want her?"

"Yeah. Pass me the phone… hey Boss, Jane." There was a faint rustling at the phone was passed over to the newest arrival.

"Cho, what's up?"

"Not having much luck with the warrant Boss. None of the DA's or Judges were willing to go for it. They say the evidence is still too circumstantial. What do you want me to do?"

"Take Van Pelt and go and pick up Tony Needham from Thomas Heights. We've just discovered that Jessica Freeman worked at the same orphanage that Tony was adopted from. Odds are that he knows that Mark and Sarah Needham aren't his biological parents and he's taking some sort of revenge on people who worked at the orphanage. I want him in Interview 1 as soon as Cho, I don't want to think about who could be next. I should be able to use the orphanage angle to pull a few strings warrant wise. I'm pretty sure we'll find something in Needham's apartment that will definitely link him to the crimes. If Needham's lawyer arrives before we get the warrant, delay as much as you can; there's no way I'm letting him slip through our fingers again if he's guilty."

Cho only replied with a simple "got it," before he hung up, leaving the SUV in silence again. Lisbon noticed that Jane had been particularly quiet in the last minute or so. She glanced over at him. He was almost staring at her, a daft smile and a look of admiration on his face. Lisbon was pretty sure she was blushing.

"What?" She asked, trying not to smack him.

"Nothing. I just like it when you're all bossy and authoritarian. You know how to get things done, and aren't afraid to let people know it's on your terms. It's a good quality for a leader and you wear it particularly well." He smiled at her again, and Lisbon rolled her eyes, still uncomfortable as she always had been about taking compliments.

"Oh shut up you, or you'll soon find out how bossy I can be." She turned her eyes to the road again, ignoring his childish reply of "promise?"

* * *

A few hours later, Lisbon and Rigsby stood outside a plain wooden door that led into Tony Needham's apartment. Their main suspect was back at CBI, and, despite Cho's best efforts, was currently enjoying the company of his lawyer. Needham's council was still playing the 'my client has an airtight alibi' angle, and Lisbon had to admit, despite the revelation about Needham's parentage and the death of his biological father; they still didn't have anything concrete linking Needham to the crimes. Everything was still circumstantial, at least, in the eyes of the law. She had left Jane back at HQ working with Van Pelt. They were currently alternating between talking to Needham and going through the available information on Sunny Hills Orphanage.

They had decided to withhold that piece of information from Needham at that moment, knowing that it was their only leverage. Lisbon had been part of investigations where the detectives had played their hands to quickly, only for it all to backfire and face a nasty backlash; either from their bosses or from the lawyers. They needed something else, and Lisbon was certain that it was to be found in Needham's apartment.

She knew they'd been lucky to get the warrant, and she'd had to call in a couple of favours. She just knew, however, that something incredibly important to the investigation was waiting for her in this apartment; she wasn't going to let it slip away.

She nodded to Rigsby, who moved to stand next to her in the tiny corridor, his huge stature making the already small area seem incredibly claustrophobic. The two of them would execute the warrant, and would call for backup or forensics if the need arose. Cho was outside in case anything went wrong, but hopefully there shouldn't be any issues. Needham was miles away in CBI after all.

Lisbon knocked on the door, shouting as she did so.

"This is Agent Lisbon of CBI. If there is anyone in this apartment, make your presence known. We have a warrant to search this address."

She and Rigsby waited for a few seconds, before taking the silence to mean that the place was empty. It wasn't surprising. Needham had no flatmate, and everyone at the college as well as his parents had stated that he didn't currently have a girlfriend.

Rigsby lent over, carefully unlocking the door with the key the building manager had provided them with. He pushed it open, and both of them entered, Rigsby first. Both of them had their weapons drawn; it was better to be safe than sorry after all. It wouldn't have been the first time that someone had tried to take her out by leading her to believe she was entering an empty room.

The apartment was silent apart from the quiet hum of the refrigerator and the faint ticking of a clock on the wall. The place was fairly messy, maintained to about the standard that one expected a college student to live in. Lisbon and Rigsby had entered straight into the living room come kitchenette, and she could see a few dirty dishes laid haphazardly by the sink. They cleared the first room and once they reached the small corridor in the apartment, Rigsby turned left, heading towards what looked to be a small office.

Lisbon turned right, heading towards the main bedroom. She heard a rustling coming from a room down the hallway, and she silently indicated to Rigsby that she was going to investigate. She cautiously made her way down the corridor, slowly, softly approaching the source of the noise. Hopefully it would turn out to be nothing, but you never knew. She could feel a bead of sweat trickle down her neck, disappearing past the neck of her shirt. The weather was still hot outside, and the apartment had no air conditioning. Lisbon tried to pretend she wasn't just a little apprehensive about what could be at the end of the corridor.

She walked carefully round the corner of the bedroom, gun in front of her, and suddenly found herself staring right into the bright blue eyes of Tony Needham.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary: **The chapter in which discoveries are made and Jane helps Lisbon out in his own unique way…

**Disclaimer:** The Mentalist doesn't belong to me, unfortunately.

**Warnings:** Some graphic descriptions, naughty words and dirty thoughts.

**Spoilers:** No major ones, but I would probably say this is set before the end of Season 3 so spoilers for who's in charge etc. And I guess therefore it's a little AU…

**Authors note: **Here I am again! It's the beginning of the end of this case (and this fic), but have no fear, there might be some more twists and definitely some Jisbon moments in the future. Only 2 more chapters plus an epilogue to go with this one I think, and I should hopefully have it finished by the end of next week, if not earlier. Thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed, favourited and followed along the way. Don't hesitate to let me know what you think; your responses have been a great encouragement over the last month or so!

* * *

_**Previously:**_

_**She walked carefully round the corner of the bedroom, gun in front of her, and suddenly found herself staring right into the bright blue eyes of Tony Needham.**_

Only, it couldn't have been Needham. Because Tony Needham was currently in custody in the CBI building 5 miles away, and unless he had escaped and managed to teleport himself here in the last 40 minutes without anybody noticing, the man in front of her was definitely _not_ their prime suspect. His face was mainly obscured by a hooded sweatshirt, his eyes the only thing she could really see in the semi-darkness of the bedroom. Someone had drawn the blinds, leaving little but midday shadows filtering across the room.

The man before her may not have been Tony Needham but Lisbon immediately identified him as a threat. And, it seemed, he viewed her as the same. In a split second, the unnamed man pushed past her, causing her to fall backwards and crack her head on the doorframe before she had time to shout or fire her weapon at him. Her vision blurred and she struggled to make out what her attacker was doing. He had left the room, obviously hoping to escape. They needed to stop him, and fast.

"Rigsby! Runner!" She shouted, hoping that the other agent had the wherewithal not to ask questions and to just chase the mystery man out of Needham's apartment. She heard something smash in the kitchen and Rigsby's shout of "Stop! CBI!" echoed through the otherwise silent apartment. Lisbon could hear the running footsteps of the two men fading away as they left the apartment and raced off down the corridor. She knew that Rigsby would not risk taking a shot at the man while in pursuit; the neighbours would have inevitably started peering out of the own homes and there was no way they were risking a civilian casualty. She hoped the younger agent could catch the mystery man, and didn't end up injured in the process. Her vision clouded temporarily as she suffered the effects of the impact her head had taken. She seemed to have taken a knock that was more damaging that she had initially realised. Lisbon knew she probably had to get help; there was no telling how bad the injury was.

She stood up slowly, and moved a hand to the back of her head, feeling the lump already rising there. She pulled her hand back in front of her face; nothing. At least she wasn't bleeding. That definitely wouldn't be good. She took a deep breath, fighting back a wave of nausea and reached for her radio.

"Cho, suspect fleeing from Needham's apartment. It's not Needham, but looks like him. Could be a brother or something, I dunno. Anyway, Rigsby's giving chase; go give him a hand!"

A simple reply of "Yes Boss," floated down the radio at her, and she paused slightly as her head began to throb. Oh, that was really going to sting in the morning. The pain was increasing, and Lisbon knew that she probably needed to be seen by a medical professional. And quickly.

She slowly stood up, and made her way to the door of the apartment, placing her hands on the walls and door for support as she moved. She was starting to feel dizzy from the impact to the back of her head, and she suddenly felt the need to sit down. Lisbon lent heavily against the wall as she reached the outside of the apartment and slumped against it, moving to sit on the cold floor of the corridor, clutching the back of her head. Her vision blurred and bile rose in her throat as she slipped quickly into unconsciousness…

* * *

She awoke some time later to the sound of Cho's concerned voice, and felt his reassuring hand on her shoulder. She felt warmer now, and as she blinked her eyes open slowly she could see the dazzling sun above her. Lisbon moved her arm to block out the bright light, but found it being held down by a paramedic. Lisbon first instinct was to struggle but she relaxed when Cho addressed her.

"It's ok Boss. They're just checking you out. We brought you outside a few minutes ago; you weren't exactly lucid when you woke up a few minutes ago so we had to carry you." She could almost hear a hint of amusement in Cho's voice. Great, the one time she needed to be carried out to be checked over by medical professionals and Cho decided to mock her. At least it wasn't Jane, she supposed, she'd never live _that_ down. Her second in command continued quietly. "They reckon you'll feel a bit groggy for a while; they've given you some painkillers and anti-inflammatories to bring down the swelling. They don't think you'll have a concussion, but they'll do a few tests when you're ready to make sure."

Lisbon tried to nod, but immediately felt ill, the injury to the back of her head still causing some obvious discomfort, as well as unsettling her stomach.

She took a deep breath and tried to look at Cho.

"The suspect?" Her throat felt dry, her voice scratchy. The paramedic, who was sat quietly by her side, apparently taking her pulse, handed her a bottle of water to sip from. Lisbon smiled her thanks.

"We got him; Rigsby's holding him in the back of the SUV ready to take back to HQ. And you were kind of right. He's definitely related to Tony Needham. In fact," Cho paused, looking down at her, "it's his twin."

"Twin?"

"Yeah. Dead ringer. No mistaking it, same eyes, nose, ears, everything. Wouldn't have bet this case could get any stranger but go figure."

She could see him shrug, and she looked at the paramedic next to her, who smiled at her before speaking.

"Right Agent Lisbon. Let's see how bad that injury really is." He pulled out a small penlight and held it up. "I'm just going to check your pupil dilation, then we'll do another couple of quick tests, see if we can rule out concussion. Is that ok?"

Lisbon nodded and silently crossed her fingers, hoping that she didn't have a serious injury; there was no way she wanted to be off this case, especially now they were finally getting somewhere.

She sat patiently, Cho at her side, and let the paramedic run his tests.

* * *

"I'm not hallucinating this am I?"

"Nope."

"There are definitely two of them?"

"Yup."

"And they're definitely twins?"

"Apparently."

"This is _so _weird."

"Got that right man."

Lisbon listened as Rigsby and Cho carried on their conversation behind her. Everyone in CBI was still trying to process what they'd discovered in the last hour. Not only was Needham adopted, but he apparently had a twin brother. The license in his pocket had identified their mystery suspect as Simon Abbott. Same age, height and looks as Tony Needham. There was no doubt they were identical twins.

Needham and his brother were sat in adjacent interview rooms, and Lisbon was watching Abbott through the glass partition while a video showed Tony Needham sat in the other room. Neither of them had said a word since they had revealed to each of them that they had identified and were holding their twin. Rigsby was right, it _**was**_ weird.

They were keeping the brothers separate, but Lisbon knew that most of the case was beginning to fall into place; if not in terms of evidence, but in terms of the practicality of the crimes. From what she could remember from high school biology, twins shared identical DNA. Which meant that it could be Needham's _**or**_ Abbott's DNA at Jessica Freeman's crime scene. Logistically though, it was something akin to a nightmare. Needham had an alibi for the murders, the videos from the college proved it, but Abbott had been in Needham's apartment, so they clearly knew each other. Which meant that they could have colluded together to commit the crimes. But on the basis of the evidence they had now, Needham could be set free, and Abbott could potentially be charged. From the short interview Cho had conducted with him, he seemingly had no credible alibis for the times of the three murders, nor for the estimated times that Jessica Freeman's and Lucas Johnson's bodies were disposed of.

If the two of them had worked together, however, it was a pretty elaborate and meticulously planned series of events. What concerned Lisbon was the why rather than the how. And of course there was the dreaded 'what if'. If Needham was indeed freed due to lack of evidence, what if they had another victim in mind? What if he went after his adopted parents? There was no telling what he would do. Again, another nightmare scenario. They needed some concrete evidence and fast, or their main suspects could potentially walk free.

Lisbon looked round at the two younger agents, who were sporting looks of frustration. After the initial interview with Cho, Abbott had decided to lawyer up, and they were waiting on his council to arrive. Abbott had been just as arrogant and fiery as his brother, his answers short, to the point and of little use. Needham was just plain ignoring any questions, with and without the presence of his lawyer. The whole thing was incredibly frustrating.

Plus, she mused as she looked through the mirror glassed, she had no idea where Jane had gone to. He hadn't said much when she revealed the identity of their suspect, and had, in fact merely looked annoyed at her when she mentioned that she'd essentially been assaulted and had hit her head with such force that it had warranted medical treatment. He'd wandered off in the direction of the attic about an hour ago, and he hadn't reappeared since. She hoped he was doing something constructive, rather than catching a nap. They were likely to need his insights in the near future.

Lisbon had sent Van Pelt back to Needham's apartment earlier to start gathering any potential evidence while she, Cho and Rigsby had returned to CBI with their latest suspect. Sac PD had set up a cordon around the apartment, ensuring that no one entered until Van Pelt arrived.

The younger agent had briefed her quickly about Sunny Hills Orphanage before she had headed off the apartment. It had been a popular orphanage, combined with an on-site maternity ward, which explained why Needham and his twin had been born there. When Lisbon had enquired about a visit and contact details, Grace had informed her that, due to budget cuts, the orphanage had been shut down 12 years previously and the building had fallen into disrepair. In fact, it was due to be demolished and rebuilt as new apartments in the next 2 weeks. Lisbon had sworn softly, knowing that they had seemingly taken 1 step forward and 2 steps back with the orphanage link. The only thing they definitely knew was that Jessica Freeman had volunteered at Sunny Hills and that Needham and Abbott had been born there 20 years previously. There were no staff lists that Van Pelt could find, and there were no records of children who had lived or been adopted from there. It was pretty much a dead end at this moment in time. Lisbon had sighed, thanked Van Pelt for her hard work and sent her off to Needham's apartment.

She couldn't believe the way that this case was going. She stared at the two young men before her, one in the next room, and one on a monitor. Lisbon thought back to 24 hours ago. Then, they had essentially given up Needham as a lost cause. With their main suspect alibied out and no further leads the case had been dangerously close to stagnating. Since then, however, with the discovery of his biological father, a link to Jessica Freeman through an orphanage and the surprising arrival of a twin, the case had turned on its head. She only hoped that that was the end of this rollercoaster of an investigation. She wasn't sure how many more twists she could take.

Lisbon sighed, looking down at her watch. She had told Van Pelt she would follow her to Needham's residence to help her with any evidence collection; she'd just popped in for a final check-in with Cho and Rigsby before she headed off to meet Van Pelt at the apartment.

"Should you be here?" A familiar voice sounded from the spot next to her, and she looked up to meet the concerned gaze of Jane. She had been lost in thought as she stared at their two suspects, who were still lawyered up and still not talking.

"I'm fine, just a knock to the head."

Jane sighed and turned to face her, his concern quickly switching to a slight flash of anger.

"A knock that caused you to pass out. That's pretty serious Lisbon and you know it."

"I'm fine Jane, honestly." She put a reassuring hand on his arm, trying to tell him that everything was ok. "Where have you been?"

Jane ignored her question and placed his hand over hers, then moved it slightly so that he held her hand in his own. He tugged at her gently, and Lisbon allowed herself to be dragged down the corridor, led by her consultant, pointedly ignoring the amused looks from both Rigsby and Cho as they exited the room. Honestly, if Jane was going to start pulling the whole 'possessive caveman' shtick, she'd likely end up hitting him.

Jane led her to her office, and practically pushed her inside as he held the door open. Lisbon silently counted to 10, knowing that the man beside her was probably only trying to help, and that he likely didn't even realise how possessive his actions had been. On the other hand, Lisbon knew Jane prided himself on being able to routinely get a rise out of her. She wouldn't be surprised if he'd planned the whole thing just to show the other men on the team who she apparently belonged to. Honestly, as if he thought she had eyes for anyone but him anymore. Idiot.

She realised that as she had been contemplating his actions, the man himself had actually been closing the blinds to her office as well as, she presumed, locking the door. This didn't bode well. She wasn't really in the mood to be seduced or be part of whatever new scheme he had planned; what she really wanted was a nap before heading back to Needham's apartment to meet Van Pelt.

Jane had apparently finished his task, and stood before her, hands in pockets and watching her carefully, as if she was a porcelain doll; fragile and likely to break at any time. Suddenly, he stepped forward and pulled her close, wrapping his arms tightly around her. After a moment of surprised shock, she returned the hug, arms reaching around him, relishing the warmth of his body and the comfort of the gesture. They remained silent for a minute or so, before she heard Jane's voice, low in her ear.

"I really wish you would be more careful when you're out on those kind of calls. You could have been seriously injured."  
Lisbon released him slightly, leaning back to look in his eyes. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the look of concern on his face.

"Yeah right!" She said, smiling up at him, "It was supposed to be a routine warrant execution Jane, how was I supposed to know that Needham's twin, who we didn't even know existed, was lurking in there? It was just one of those things. Rigsby and I did everything by the book, we were as careful as we could have been."

"Even so…"

"There's no 'even so' about it Jane. It's part of my job. It just happened. I'll be more 'careful'" she wiggled her fingers in an air quote "at crime scenes, when you decide to start wearing a vest whenever there's guns involved." She knew that was never likely to happen; Jane detested the police issue bulletproof vests with a passion. He just didn't seem to realise that approaching bad guys and tackling suspects was part of her job description, danger to her personal health or no. The only way she could be more careful was if she sent always someone in her place, and it wasn't right for her to continually place others in the potential line of fire without taking some of the heat herself. It wasn't the way she led her team and deep down she knew Jane understood that.

"Yeah, ok, if that's what it takes woman; deal." He said stubbornly, and Lisbon could almost _feel_ his pout, even if she couldn't see it. She laughed at his childish actions.

"How does it feel?" He continued, his voice soft and filled with concern.

"It's not too bad. A little swollen but I'll survive. The paramedics said I don't have a concussion, so I'll be fine. Honestly."

"Hmm, I'm not too sure," Jane murmured, releasing her a little more so he could take a tiny step back. "Let me have a look."

She stood frozen. She wasn't sure whether having Jane quite so near when she was hopped up on a dangerous mix of pain medication and left over adrenaline was such a good idea. She was honestly contemplating either jumping him, or falling asleep in his arms, neither of which were going to close the case, pleasant as either scenario might be.

Jane placed his hands on her arms and carefully spun her so she was facing away from him. She was left looking at her desk and filling cabinet and thoughts of the time he had lent over her while looking at crime scene pictures came rushing back to her. It had been the first time she had truly acknowledged that she may have felt something more than friendship for the consultant. How far they had come in so little time. She felt him move closer behind her, and she was suddenly grateful he had shut the blinds. She couldn't begin to imagine what the others would think if they could see them now.

Lisbon could feel his breath on her neck as he leaned in, hot and heavy, and she placed both hands on her desk to stabilise herself. God, the effect this man had on her. How had she not really noticed him until recently? It seemed to her that they'd wasted so much time.

She closed her eyes so she could focus fully on the sensation of his touches. She almost been overwhelmed by him in the attic, and she wondered what he would do now. Lisbon felt his hands drift softly up her arms, the movement causing goose bumps to rise where his touch had been. His hands resting briefly on her shoulders and he squeezed them gently before he moved them closer to the base of her neck. Jane rubbed his thumbs gently over the back of her neck; almost giving her a massage and Lisbon had to fight back a groan. Her eyes were still closed and she was focused on nothing but him, his breathing and the movement of his hands. He moved his fingers carefully through her hair, threading the digits through it, deftly moving closer to the source of the slight throbbing in her head.

He caught the lump accidently with his knuckle as he moved, and Lisbon hissed slightly, caught out by the sudden sensation of pain. Jane's hands froze and he edged forward, placing a soft kiss at the back of her ear before mumbling a quick "sorry."

Lisbon couldn't reply, just sighed and prayed that he carried on. If Jane could be this focused and sensual when checking out a stupid lump on her head, she couldn't wait to see what he could do in a more private setting. She had a feeling his hands and mouth could definitely be put to better use than card tricks and clever observations, especially given her experience in the attic hours before.

She did moan then, her mind caught up in thoughts of her and the man stood behind her. This case _really_ needed to be over now. Honestly, there was only so much more tension she could take before she jumped him in the middle of the bullpen, witnesses be damned. She returned her focus to Jane's current ministrations. He was carefully sweeping her hair away from the lump, his movements slow so as to prevent another accidental knock. She could feel the cool air of her office mixing with his hot breath, and she moaned slightly when he blew gently on the injury.

"Hmm," his voice was low and husky in her ear, and she could sense his lips were mere millimetres away. "It doesn't look too bad. A little sore, but you're right, you'll survive." He paused slightly, as if giving his next words a great amount of thought. "I know something that will help your recovery though Teresa…" She shivered slightly at the sound of her given name on his lips.

"Oh yeah," she whispered back, pleased to find she still actually had a voice. "What's that?"

"This," was all he said, before she felt a soft touch on the lump, his lips delicately pressing on the wound. It ached slightly, but she didn't complain. It was over as soon as it began, and she almost groaned as he let her hair fall back down and he stepped away. Lisbon missed the contact immediately.

She didn't say anything as she stood up slowly and turned to look at him, leaning back on her desk. She raised an eyebrow in question.

"Did you really just try and kiss it better?"

Jane practically beamed at her, before shrugging almost shyly and running a hand through his blond curls.

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do when someone's injured? I'm sure it's feeling a lot better already. I could do it again if you'd like…" He winked at her then.

She reached out to hit him, and he took a step back before reaching out and pulling her into another hug. He kissed her forehead gently and stepped back, almost reluctantly. They shared a smile as they realised that reality beckoned.

"I'm guessing we should probably get back to the case?" Jane asked, nodding his head in the direction of the door.

"Yeah. I asked Cho and Rigsby to keep an eye on Needham, Abbott and their lawyers while we wait to hear from Van Pelt. She headed back to the apartment to see if she could find anything. I was just about to head out there myself to lend a hand before you dragged me in here." She smirked at him then, and moved out of the office towards the elevators.

"Can I come with?" She heard him call after her.

"No," she called back. "Stay here and stay out of trouble. Why don't you look over the files again; focus on Sunny Hills; we need more information on that place and the people who may have worked there."

"Spoilsport," he shouted good-naturedly in return, and Lisbon watched as he retrieved a file from her desk and lay down on the couch in her office, making himself right at home. Typical. He gave her a little wave just as he was leaving her view and she smiled as she made her way to the elevators.

* * *

It didn't take her long to reach Needham's apartment, and Grace greeted her at the doorway.

"Hey Boss. I was just about to start going through the office. I checked out the living room and the bedroom, but there was nothing there of use. However, it's clear that two people have been sleeping here. There was a fold out bed set up in the bedroom where you ran into Simon Abbott. I guess he must have been asleep when you and Rigsby entered."

"Yeah," Lisbon said, "or he was wide awake and figured he would make a run for it. Didn't do him any good though." She raised her hand to her head subconsciously, gently touching the lump that had been caused in this apartment a couple of hours earlier. Van Pelt looked at her with concern as they made their way to the office.

"How is it?"

"A little sore. Paramedics said I'm fine though and Jane gave me his permission to continue working."

Van Pelt raised an eyebrow, rightly questioning Jane's medical credentials. Lisbon just shrugged non-committedly.

"What can I say? You know Jane; he wouldn't drop the subject so I let him check it out."

Van Pelt just chuckled, a wry smile on her lips, and Lisbon could sense she was trying not to pry into whatever was going on between her boss and the consultant. Which was probably a good thing, because Lisbon wasn't entirely sure what she'd say if someone asked her about it.

Grace held the door open for Lisbon as the two of them made their way into the small office. It was a bigger mess than the other rooms, and it seemed very compact. A desk lay against one wall and a large, old looking bookcase stood against another. Newspapers and printed sheets littered the floor, and a couple of what looked like scrapbooks were scattered haphazardly on top. Posters of bands and movies covered the walls and a laptop was closed on the desk. The place looked like a bomb had hit it, and Lisbon didn't really have any idea of where to start. She sighed as she took in the details of the room.

"Right," she said, addressing Van Pelt who had followed her into the room. "Let's see what we can find shall we?"

Van Pelt walked through the room, taking note of everything, picking up the odd letter or piece of paper. Lisbon looked around, trying to spot anything completely out of the ordinary. There didn't seem to be anything within the room that looked like it would be able to provide them with any concrete evidence of a crime. It just looked like the messy back room of an average college student. She had just picked up a letter that claimed the recipient had won the Nigerian lottery when she heard Van Pelt speak.

"Uh, Boss?"

Lisbon turned around to face the younger agent, who was holding one of the large scrapbooks that had been strewn across the floor in her hands.

"What is it?"

"Take a look. I think we found our evidence…"

Lisbon moved across the small room, standing shoulder to shoulder with Grace as she held the book. As she moved closer, she could see what looked like photographs stuck on the pages. It was the subject of those pictures that had garnered Grace's attention.

Lisbon could see numerous photos of Jessica Freeman spread across the books pages. There were ones of her walking to work, of her stood outside the hospital, even of her conducting what looked to be her weekly food shop.

"They definitely stalked her then," Lisbon commented, taking the book from Van Pelt and flicking through it. The pictures became more disturbing with each page turn. There were photos of Jessica Freeman gagged, tied to a chair, and, near the back of the book, photos featuring lots and lots of blood. Lisbon could sense the disgust of the woman next to her.

"It's like a diary of her death," Grace commented, aghast at the sight before her. On the final page was a picture of Jessica Freeman's body where she had been dumped, naked and tortured, for the whole world to see.

"This definitely links Needham and Abbott to the murders. I'm guessing that there's another book for Johnson."

Lisbon searched around, locating the second scrapbook. She picked it up and flicked through it quickly, disturbed to see a similar sequence of pictures showing the final few hours of Johnson's life. Lisbon suddenly had a thought.

"Grace, we need to find out if they had a list of potential victims. I've got a feeling that Needham and Abbott are after people who worked at Sunny Hills Orphanage when they were born. They're likely to be tracking down people who they think possibly had something to do with their separation. Jessica Freeman was a volunteer there at the time, and Lucas Johnson obviously abandoned them and their mother before their births or just after. There must be other people involved."

Lisbon watched as Van Pelt nodded and made her way to the desk. The younger agent started pulling out the drawers one by one while Lisbon looked through the other detritus on the floor.

"Here we are Boss," Grace said suddenly, a look of determination in her eyes. She held a small diary in her hand, the dark leather reflecting the light of the small bulb in the office. "Take a look at the first page."

Lisbon took the diary and opened the page, glancing down at it. It didn't take long for her to see what Grace had been looking at.

Written in large letters in a scruffy hand was a list of five names. Two had already been crossed out; those of Jessica Freeman and Lucas Johnson. But three still remained; three more potential victims, three more lives at risk.

"Sarah Needham, Mark Needham, Frank Mendes." Lisbon said, reading the names carefully.

"Obviously we know the Needham's, but who the hell is Frank Mendes?" Lisbon asked, looking at Van Pelt, who shrugged slightly before answering.

"I'm guessing he's someone else who worked at the orphanage. Maybe a doctor? We know that Needham and Abbott have targeted people they blame for their separation; who better to target than the people who took Needham away; his adopters," Grace said, pointing to the first two names, "and the man who delivered them." She pointed to Mendes' name.

"Call Cho, get him to search for Frank Mendes, see how he ties into all this. If Needham and Abbott are targeting him, he must be local. There's no book for him here, like there is for Freeman and Johnson, so maybe they were planning on taking him soon. They seem pretty keen on keeping photographic evidence of what they've done. I'll call Rigsby and tell him to keep Needham and Abbott there; I think we've finally got the evidence to charge them both."

Van Pelt nodded and moved to the other side of the room to make the call. Lisbon pulled out her own cell and dialled Rigsby, who immediately picked up.

"Boss, what's up? I was just about to call you."

"We've got our evidence Rigsby. Books and photos plus a list of names that Needham and Abbott were targeting. You need to keep them both there; tell the lawyers new evidence has arisen and their clients will be needed to answer further questions. Let them know that they may be charged for abduction, murder and anything else we can make stick. Start with Needham; it's about time we nailed that son of a bitch."

"Shit," Rigsby muttered down the line, "Boss, Needham's been released. That's what I was about to call you about."

"What do you mean he's been released?"

"I'm sorry Boss," Rigsby said down the phone to her. "His lawyer convinced the DA that his client wasn't directly involved. He hasn't been charged with anything, and everything in relation to Needham was deemed purely circumstantial. We had to let him go."

"Damn it, that's all we needed. What about Abbott?"

"Still in custody; wasn't quite as lucky as his brother. Due to the lack of alibis and the assault on you at the apartment, we've been given the go ahead to press charges. With what you've just found we should be able to make it all stick; assault, abduction, murder, the lot."

"Yeah, but we need Needham back in custody _now._ The evidence is there for both of them; Needham's just as guilty, just as dangerous as his brother. Get out there with a couple of agents and find him."

"Yes Boss," Rigsby answered, just before she hung up.

Lisbon turned to look at Van Pelt, who had just finished her call as well.

"Grab the scrapbooks and the diary. Needham's been released and I think we're now on borrowed time; he'll be going after _someone_ on that list now that he's out. Tell Sac PD to maintain the cordon and send forensics to go through everything else while I call Hightower to arrange protection for the Needham's. We need to get back and hope that Cho has had some luck with Mendes. Let's go."

She didn't afford the younger woman the opportunity to reply before she walked out of the apartment and headed back to the car. They made it back to CBI in record time.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary: **The chapter in which time starts to run out for the team…

**Disclaimer:** The Mentalist doesn't belong to me, unfortunately.

**Warnings:** Some graphic descriptions, naughty words and dirty thoughts.

**Spoilers:** No major ones, but I would probably say this is set before the end of Season 3 so spoilers for who's in charge etc. And I guess therefore it's a little AU…

**Authors note: **Just a couple of chapters left of this one now. The investigation starts to draw to a close from now on, but that's not the end of the tale by any means!

Feedback is always appreciated, it always puts a smile on my face when I get a new notification of any sort :)

Hope you enjoy...

* * *

The team had gathered in the bullpen as soon as Lisbon and Grace had returned from Needham's apartment. Jane sat on his couch, full of almost nervous energy, watching as Lisbon paced across the floor, looking determined. He knew she had spoken to Hightower and arranged for someone to be stationed at Mark and Sarah Needham's house, and another couple of agents had been sent to keep an eye on Thomas Heights, just in case Tony Needham was stupid enough to think that the college could be used as some kind of sanctuary. Van Pelt was looking through the diary for any indication of what Needham's next moves would be, while Rigsby was still out the office. Jane knew that Lisbon had called him to go over to Frank Mendes' home address, in a bid to reach him before Needham did. The man's life was at risk and he probably had no idea.

Cho had managed to find some information on Frank Mendes which he had presented to the team upon Lisbon's arrival. He was a 54 year old doctor who owned his own small private practice in downtown Sacramento; no family, seemingly few friends and the only person who had been able to shed any light on Needham's probable target was his receptionist, and even she hadn't really had much to say. He lived in a small residential area in southern Sacramento on his own, which was where Rigsby had been sent.

Jane watched as Cho sat on the phone trying to get through to Mendes on the couple of phone numbers they had been provided by the receptionist. A quick background check into his work history had revealed that the doctor had indeed worked at Sunny Hills Orphanage, the time frame overlapping when Needham and Abbott would have been born and subsequently adopted. The revelation of the doctor's previous work at the orphanage, and the fact that the Needham's were already under CBI supervision, meant that Mendes had jumped straight to the top of their 'most likely to be tracked down and possibly murdered by a serial killer' list. Jane knew that Lisbon was pissed off that Needham had been released, and was probably even more frustrated by the fact that he seemed to have disappeared off the face of the planet.

Simon Abbott, however, was still sat in Interview 1. His council had arrived and had been informed of the latest updates in the case, including Lisbon and Van Pelt's discovery of the gruesome scrapbooks. So far though, Abbott had refused to say anything, even in light of the new evidence. Still, Jane supposed, there wasn't much the man could do now, the evidence that they had against him now was pretty concrete and it was only a matter of time before he was charged with numerous offences, including the assault on Lisbon.

It was late afternoon by now, and Jane watched as the tortuously hot summer sun started to sink below the taller buildings of Sacramento. On the horizon though, he could spot a few dark clouds. Maybe the weather was going to break and there would be some relief from the heat the last few weeks had brought.

Jane was drawn out of his introspection by Lisbon's voice calling across to Cho, who had finished his phone call.

"Any luck?" Lisbon said, looking at her second in command.

"Afraid not Boss. No one's picking up at his workplace and the home and cell numbers we have are ringing straight through to answer phone."

"Shit."

Lisbon turned to face Jane. "Any ideas?"

"He knows the noose is tightening; it's the last opportunity for him to take his revenge. He'll have definitely gone for Mendes; he's the one he and Abbott probably hold the most resentment for."

Jane watched as she nodded and turned back to Cho while pulling her cell phone out of her pocket.

"Get someone over to the practice, just in case Mendes is there." The other man just nodded and picked up the phone again, preparing to get someone over to the doctor's place of work as soon as humanly possible. Lisbon had put the phone to her ear, waiting for the person on the end of the line to pick up.

"Rigbsy? It's Lisbon. What have you got?"

There was a pause as Lisbon listened intently to what Rigsby had to tell her. Jane could see from the frown that appeared on her face that it was not good news.

"Jane?" He turned his attention to Grace, who had wandered over to the couch, Needham's diary in hand.

"What's up?"

"There's something written in here that's seems to be important to Needham; what do you make of it?" She handed over the diary, indicating a line of text that Needham had underlined several times.

"'Looking at the past to help the future'… I've heard that before." Jane paused when the memory came back to him. Needham had said the same thing to him when they'd had their strained conversation in the hallway of Thomas Heights. He continued to study the page in front of him.

"Hmm, it's definitely interesting; must be significant. Why such an emphasis on it though?" He furrowed his brow in concentration "Oh. Wait! They've been linking it all together, their past and their future!" He looked up at Grace, a look almost akin to enthusiasm on his face. "They've been using the orphanage!"

He stood up, almost knocking Grace over in his haste.

"Lisbon! Lisbon! They've been using the orphanage, that's where they've been taking them!"

Lisbon turned to look at him, ignoring his almost schoolboy enthusiasm. She'd obviously just finished on the phone with Rigsby, and Jane could tell by the way she held herself that the news she was about to share with them was not promising. She nodded, just barely, but enough to signify that she'd heard him.

"Ok, then we've got somewhere to start. Rigsby's just arrived at Mendes' home. It's been trashed, clear signs of a struggle."  
Cho looked up, his own phone call over.

"Mendes?"

"Gone. There's a lot blood on the floor too, so Needham must have hit him pretty hard with something to subdue him. If you're right," she said, looking pointedly at Jane, "then he's taken him straight to Sunny Hills to kill him."

"Why not just kill him at his house? It's obviously secluded enough that he could have killed him without too much alarm being raised." Grace had returned to her desk, looking up at her boss in question. Jane, however, answered before Lisbon had the opportunity.

"It's become almost ritualistic for Needham and Abbott I think. The orphanage was where they were split up when they were born, and I guess they feel that by killing the people who caused their separation at the original 'crime scene' as it were, that the two of them will be able to move on together. Using the past to help the future," he said, waving Needham's diary in Lisbon's direction.

Jane noticed that Lisbon almost looked like she was sorely tempted to roll her eyes at him. Ok, so he wasn't a criminal psychologist, but he knew how to read people, and knew the lengths that someone would go to get revenge, to receive some closure. In fact, he was probably the poster boy for those kinds of actions he thought morosely.

"Right, Van Pelt; I need you to stay here and watch Abbott and keep an eye on his council. We're formally charging him with abduction, assault, murder, everything. You process it all and make sure it's airtight."

Jane watched as Grace just nodded and stood up to begin making her way over to the interview rooms, then turned his attention back to Lisbon, who was now addressing Cho.

"Right Cho, you, Jane and I will head to Sunny Hills; see if we can track down Needham before he kills Mendes. I've asked Rigsby to meet us there asap, and he's got Sac PD on their way to set up a cordon. If Needham's there, we'll get him."

Cho answered with a 'yes Boss' and disappeared, leaving Jane and Lisbon alone together in the bullpen.

Jane smiled softly at her as he stood from the couch and made his way to stand next to her.

"Ready?" he asked as they headed, side by side, towards the elevators.

"Yup. Let's go close this case."

Jane stayed silent, deep in contemplation. He had a feeling that the case would soon be over and done with, and he hoped that they would reach Needham and Mendes in time to prevent any further deaths; too many people had already lost their lives in the course of their investigation.

He, Lisbon and Cho talked quietly as they made their way over to Sunny Hills, discussing potential plans of actions and trying to cover every base in terms of likely scenarios. Jane looked out of the window as Lisbon drove, taking in the scenery. The sun was beginning to set over the Sacramento skyline, and he noticed a gathering of dark clouds on the horizon. He allowed a small smile to grace his lips; maybe the change of weather would bring a change of fortune. One never knew.

* * *

Lisbon imagined that Sunny Hills Orphanage had been a very imposing building in its day. Three stories high, painted in a soft cream colour and with slated shades, it loomed over the other buildings on the street. The sign above the arched door was faded, the previously bright lettering of the words "Where new lives begin!" were now nothing but a pale yolk colour. Lisbon thought she heard Jane snort slightly at the miserable state of the building. The orphanage had fallen into disrepair in the 12 years since it had been shut down, but a cordon was now set up around the perimeter warning of the impending demolition of the site. A fitting place for Needham and Abbott to have taken their victims, Lisbon thought as she cautiously made her way towards the red tape surrounding the site. Jane followed closely behind her, his presence both a comfort and a hindrance. The weather had finally broken just before they'd arrived, the humidity of the previous weeks culminating in a refreshing rain shower that had certainly been a welcome relief to Lisbon as she'd exited the car.

"Cho, you and Rigsby at the location?" Lisbon said into her radio. Their progress towards the target was slow, Sac PD had cordoned off the street a block either way, with no one, especially she and Jane, entirely sure how the situation would play out. One thing that had made itself apparent during the investigation was that Needham was certainly as much of a livewire as his twin.

"Yes Boss," Cho replied, his voice crackling slightly through the radio. "Approaching the back entrance now. Waiting for your signal to enter."

Lisbon turned to the man behind her as they approached the corner of the building. Jane was soaked, the normally bouncy curls on his head looking almost flat and his suit looking very much worse for wear as it became saturated with water. Lisbon had to hold back a laugh at the almost forlorn look on his face, water dripping down his face and off his nose as they stood under the awning of the orphanage. She had a sudden thought, about Jane, about the situation, and about what was likely to happen. She didn't know what it was, but she had a bad feeling about letting Jane follow her inside. Lisbon made a split second decision and looked up at him.

"Wait here," she said, a determined look in her eye. "Don't move unless I call for you; we don't know what Needham is capable of and I can't be spending time thinking about how to get you out of trouble. I'm going to have enough paperwork at the end of this anyhow."

"You know it would just be easier if I came along now right? Needham won't listen to cops, he resents them enough as it is. I can talk to him, prevent him from killing Mendes." Jane had a confused look on his face, fully aware that he was usually allowed to follow them in when apprehending suspects.

Lisbon shook her head, "No, it's too much of a risk. We know what Needham's capable of, but we _don't _know how he'll react to this particular situation. I can't guarantee to keep you safe in there this time Jane, and I'll be able to focus more if I know you're out here and out of potential trouble. The three of us will handle it; we know where he's holding Mendes thanks to the info from Sac PD. I need you to stay by the car and let Van Pelt know if we need any extra backup."

The rain was coming down more heavily now, bouncing off the dark red roof tiles, landing to their right in waves as they crept under the awning. She handed him a spare radio.

"Keep this on you. You'll be able to hear everything we say, and maybe you'll be able to help us out when we get a bit closer."

Jane merely nodded, not looking particularly pleased with this turnout of events. But, for once, he kept quiet and followed her instructions, looking back at her only once as he jogged back to the SUV. Lisbon sighed and continued to move along the side of the building, heading towards to front door of Sunny Hills Orphanage.

* * *

Jane retreated to the safety of the car and opened the door, hoping to find some shelter from the persistent rain. He searched the car for anything to dry himself off a little and spotted a small towel in Rigsby's bag. He grabbed it and wiped his face and hair in a bid to soak up most of the moisture. He slipped the earpiece in and held the radio as if it was his lifeline. He hated not being with her, offering her some kind of protection. Not that he was able to carry a firearm, but he could at least provide her with a reassuring presence as she wandered through the abandoned orphanage. He wasn't entirely sure why she'd sent him back; but he trusted her, especially in situations such as these. As good as his negotiating and manipulation skills were, there was no guarantee that Needham would be willing to listen to anything he had to say, and he knew better than to put Lisbon's or the others' lives at risk through his need to play games with suspects. He had a feeling that Needham would prove to be a greater danger than any of them have ever anticipated.

The Sac PD officers on the scene had seen a light flicker on in one of the offices upstairs after they'd set up their cordon, so Jane knew that was where Lisbon and the others were heading. The local officers had wisely given the orphanage a wide berth, having been informed just what Needham was capable of.

Grace was back at CBI, co-ordinating with the DA on the charges being pressed against Abbott. Jane wondered briefly if she was feeling as frustrated by her inability to take part in the final showdown as he was. His eyes wandered to the radio, temptation to talk inanely into Lisbon's ear about stupid little things almost proving too much. However, even he understood that he probably shouldn't distract her as she was trying to take down a serial killer with a hostage. It didn't seem like a situation that would end too well.

The radio crackled to life, and Jane paused, waiting to listen to what was going on.

"Rigbsy, Cho. I'm outside the office on the second floor. What is your location?" Jane smiled. Lisbon sounded confident. That was always a good sign.

Cho replied that he and Rigsby were on the floor below, and that they would be there shortly. However, they had found that one of the staircases had become damaged and they were unable to reach the second floor from their current location. They needed to double back and head up a different route.

"Ok, I'll wait for…" There was a loud crack and a scream and Jane jumped with a start. It wasn't Lisbon; it was definitely a male cry of pain. Mendes then, he presumed. Which wasn't good. It meant that Needham was getting restless and would soon bring about the Doctors demise. Not a good ending to this already bleak story.

"Shit. That's Mendes," Lisbon confirmed his suspicions. "I can see Needham through the window. Cho, Rigsby, I may not be able to wait for you two…I can't stand here and let him kill Mendes while I wait for you guys."

Jane wanted to shout down the radio at her. _What are you doing you stupid woman? Wait for the others!_

"Yes Boss, we're making our way there now. Should be a few minutes at most, this place is like a rabbit warren, loads of staircases and hallways damaged and impassable. No wonder it's condemned."

Jane looked around. He needed to be there. Needed to back her up, she couldn't face Needham alone, even if she was armed. But what could he take? He spotted something out of the corner of his eye. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it would have to do. He grabbed it, threw open the SUV door and ran towards the building.

* * *

Lisbon took a deep breath outside the office. There was a small amount of light visible through the dirty window that looked into the room, and some leaked out under the bottom of the door. She could hear the rain tapping against the roof on the floor above, the staccato beats matching her own racing heart.

She knew she had two options: wait for Cho and Rigsby to arrive so the three of them could enter together or enter solo and hope that she could take Needham down on her own before he killed Mendes.

Judging by the scream that had just emanated from the room, she and Mendes, likely didn't have that much time. She didn't know how long Cho and Rigsby would be. If the building was in that much disrepair, it may be that they would have to double back right round to where _she_ had entered, and who knew how long that would take them.

She breathed deeply again, knowing deep down that there was only one option. Time was running out, Needham was _right there_ and there was no telling how long it would be before he caught Mendes with a fatal blow.

She carefully placed her hand on the door handle, and called through the door.

"Tony Needham! This is Agent Teresa Lisbon from CBI. We have you surrounded. We know you have Frank Mendes in there; release him and give yourself up, or we may be left with no option but to use deadly force."

Lisbon listened carefully, hoping that Needham would see sense and turn himself in. She knew, however, that it was an extremely unlikely outcome; there was little chance that Needham would give up his chance for revenge so easily. As if to confirm her suspicions, a voice called out to her through the doors.

"Not a chance in hell, Agent Lisbon. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but Doctor Mendes and I have got a bit of catching up to do. He was just in the middle of explaining a couple of things to me, and I'd hate to miss the rest."

There was a loud 'thwack' and a horrifying scream and Lisbon could hear Mendes pleading with his attacker, "Please, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean anything by it, they only wanted one baby, only one!"

Lisbon heard Needham shout at the poor man he held prisoner, telling him to shut up. It was at that moment that she knew for definite what she had to do. She couldn't wait any longer, she had to go in and try and save Mendes from being beaten to death.

She held her gun out in front of her, and carefully twisted the handle of the office door. She threw open the door and shouted as she entered, demanding that Needham drop his weapon. As soon as she saw her suspect, Lisbon trained her gun on him. But she knew in a split second that she wouldn't be able to take a shot, wouldn't be able to rescue Mendes as easily as she hoped. Anger flowed through her as Tony Needham stood before her, arm almost casually flung round Frank Mendes' neck as he used him as a human shield. She could see a baseball bat discarded on the floor, and Lisbon could see that it was already covered in Mendes' blood. It must have been the weapon that Needham had used to knock out his victim and torture him with here at Sunny Hills. Lisbon kept her weapon trained on the pair of them, but she knew that Needham now held all the cards. Mendes was bleeding, and hardly coherent; he was now mumbling apologies and pleading with Needham to free him. Lisbon knew that if he didn't get medical attention soon, the doctor was going to be in serious trouble.

"Let him go Needham, there's nowhere you can go, nothing you can do. Let him go." She repeated, keeping her voice firm and determined, knowing that any slight break or change could cause Needham to lash out, either at herself or at Mendes. She watched as Needham merely shook his head, before turning his gaze back at her. What she saw in his eyes disturbed her; this was a man who had nothing to lose, and was willing to die for the revenge he craved.

"I don't appear to be as surrounded as you claimed Agent Lisbon," Needham said mockingly, glancing around her to look at the open office door. He pulled Mendes with him as he moved, preventing her from taking a shot. "Didn't you know it's wrong to lie to people?"

Before she could answer, someone interrupted from the doorway. "Actually, you _are_ surrounded. SWAT's preparing downstairs and there's two more agents just waiting outside this door ready to blow your brains out, so I suggest that you do as the good Agent Lisbon asked."

Lisbon almost gasped at the sound of the familiar voice. The stupid son of a…

"Ah, nice of you to join us Mr Jane. I was wondering if you would show up, you just can't seem to keep your nose out of other people's business."

Lisbon couldn't see him, but she sensed that Jane shrugged at Needham's observation.

"It's what I do. I watch people, try and see what makes them tick, press their buttons when they're holding hostages until they give themselves up." Oh God, Lisbon thought, he's going to get himself into trouble in a minute. She'd kill him when they got out of here. She briefly wondered how long Cho and Rigsby would be, she really needed some back up here, and Jane wasn't likely to cut it. Needham was still preventing a clear shot, even to his arms, one of which still hung around Mendes' neck, the other obscured by his human shield. Lisbon knew that if Mendes suffered a gunshot wound, with the amount of blood he had already lost, he wouldn't last long. She would just have to wait for the opportune moment.

"So, you figured it was pretty symbolic to kill those you thought responsible for your situation here did you?" Jane appeared to be unfazed by the anger in Needham's eyes, and was apparently going to start pushing the buttons straight away. Great.

"Jane…" she hissed at him, still unable to actually see him from her position in front of him. She couldn't risk turning to face him; there was a chance that Needham would lash out given an opportunity.

Jane ignored her, his attention apparently on Needham. He was obviously moving slightly closer, as she began to see him out of the corner of her eye. He continued talking at the man before them, his voice filled with a taunting tone.

"I mean, it's a bit overdramatic isn't it? Bringing them here? That's how we found you, you know. You could have killed him," Jane said, waving his hand as Mendes, "in his own home and escaped. But you _had _to bring him here didn't you? Couldn't kill him anywhere else."

Needham shook his head at the consultant, and Lisbon could see his eyes flicker with doubt for just a second.

"No, that's not true. I could have killed him at his house. I just didn't want to. He deserves to have his life ended where mine did 20 years ago."

Lisbon was shocked to hear Jane laugh at Needham then. Not just a slight chuckle, but an actually bark of laughter. What was wrong with the man?

"Honestly, you really think your life ended here? Just because you got separated from a brother you didn't even know existed until recently? Tell me, what was the hardest part Needham: growing up with the loving parents or the comfortable lifestyle you've always been able to afford? Because, if I'm honest, I'm struggling to see how your life 'ended'. You and your twin have been killing people for nothing."

Lisbon watched as anger flashed in Needham's eyes then. Jane's button-pushing trick was obviously working, but perhaps it was too effective; Needham was clearly on the verge of snapping.

"IT WAS NOT FOR NOTHING!" Needham shouted, shaking Mendes as he turned his anger towards Jane. Lisbon still couldn't get a clear shot, but she knew that time was running out. She was going to have to make a decision one way or the other very shortly. Needham was glaring in Jane's direction, his words harsh and full of venom.

"You think it's nothing? That I can just forget that I was separated from my only remaining family? I've been lied to my _whole_ life! All because everyone decided to abandon me and Simon." Needham's eyes seemed to flicker then, as if he was struggling to make a difficult decision. Lisbon was worried; Jane had obviously succeeded enough with his plan to push Needham's buttons, but all it had achieved was to make him incredibly angry, and the realisation hit that this situation was not likely to end peacefully. Jane, seemingly having realised he'd made a mistake in pushing Needham as far as he had, was thankfully remaining silent.

Now, Lisbon thought, if I can just distract him enough to get a clear shot, I can get us all out of here. She could faintly hear footsteps walking cautiously down one of the nearby corridors; Cho and Rigsby had finally arrived on the right floor.

Needham appeared to have made his decision and he suddenly turned to face her, obviously having had enough of Jane and his games.

"You know, my brother likes to use things to smash peoples head in. He always said it made him feel more satisfied that he could swing and use his strength to take someone's life. Me? Not so much. I've always preferred guns." Needham, one arm still around Mendes' neck, suddenly raised his other hand, the one that had been hidden by Mendes' body and Lisbon immediately identified the Glock 9mm in his hand, aimed at herself and Jane. Lisbon sensed Jane's unease beside her, his distaste for firearms well known, but was unable to offer him any assurances of his safety. Honestly, she would have thought he had the sense not to follow them into these situations knowing that they generally ended up with guns or other weapons being waved around in his general direction. She'd be sure to give him a thorough reprimand when they returned to headquarters. She might even let Hightower have words, just to put the point across.

"Look Needham, I know what it's like," Jane said, looking at the man in front of him, changing tack, his voice soft and almost sympathetic. "I know what it's like to be abandoned by someone you love. My mother…"

"Don't try that bullshit with me; I know how these things work. Good cop," he pointed the weapon at Jane, "and bad cop," he pointed the gun at Lisbon. "I know you're just trying to get in my head, trying to find common ground so that you can get me to surrender peacefully. That isn't going to happen I'm afraid, Mr Jane." Needham once again pointed the gun at Lisbon, keeping a steady eye on her.

"Meh," Jane said almost casually behind her. "It was worth a try, guess you're slightly smarter than we thought. So Needham, please, explain to Agent Lisbon and I just how we all ended up here in this snug little office. I bet it's a fascinating tale. Go on. Prove it's not all been for nothing."

Lisbon suddenly realised what Jane was doing. He was trying to keep Needham distracted enough so that he let his guard down so she could either shoot him, or let Cho and Rigsby help take him out when they arrived. It was a good idea. Good, but incredibly dangerous. She and Jane had both seen how close Needham was to losing it in the last few minutes. There was no telling what he would do next.

Fortunately, Jane's words had seemed to encourage Needham to start talking. Lisbon kept her gun trained on him as he spoke.

"I tried to speak to my Mum and Dad about it all you know, when I found out. Well, not my _actual _Mum and Dad. Mark and Sarah Needham. The lying bastards that they are. They lied to me for 20 years. Never thought to tell me I was adopted. That I wasn't even their son. So I went looking through all their old files, tried to track down any mention of where they got me from. Got the name from the official files they kept in an old box in the basement. Found this place, abandoned, ruined. But I found some old files; stuff that hadn't been shredded when they shut the place down. I found a staff list, and tried to track people who might have known about me, might have met me when I was a born, knew what happened to my mum. I found Freeman. She was the only one still around who I could speak to.

"That bitch," Needham said, obviously referring to Jessica Freeman, "she said that I had a brother… and not just a brother! A twin! A fucking twin! She said my Mum was really sick when she came in and the doctor couldn't do anything to help. This bastard," he shouted, shaking Mendes as he did so, which caused the doctor to finally groan and slip into unconsciousness. "He let my mum die and decided to sell me and my brother for the highest price. That bitch worked with him; separated us, looked after us and then handed us over so that we'd never even know the other existed. And my Dad? That bastard decided that twins would have been too much work for his 'lifestyle'. Gave his name to Freeman for the official forms, said he was popping out to get some water for my Mum and disappeared. Left my Mum right when she needed him, when me and Simon needed him. We had a lot of fun killing him; me and Simon gave him exactly what he deserved."

Needham was frantic now, the gun flicking between Lisbon and Jane. If he wasn't holding Mendes as a hostage, Lisbon would have tried for the shot, but it wasn't worth the risk now. She couldn't allow for another person to die in the course of this investigation.

"Now, I suggest, Agent Lisbon, that you drop your weapon and let make your way slowly out of this office and let me finished with the good doctor here." Needham's eyes were full of fury, and Lisbon could hear Jane's feet shuffling behind her, as if he was suddenly unsure of what to do.

"That's not how this works Needham. You need to let Mendes go. If you don't I _will_ shoot you." She made her decision, and carefully started to edge forward, her gun still raised, aimed at the man in front of her. If she could just get him to turn with Mendes slightly. If she could just get a clear shot.

"Yeah, and if she does shoot you Needham, you'll die." Apparently Jane wasn't quite done yet. Lisbon held back a frustrated growl at the obstinate man. "And if you die, you'll abandon Simon. Just like your Mum, your Dad and everyone else you've know have abandoned you all your life. I think you want her to shoot you. You want to leave your brother alone."

Lisbon could almost Jane's sneer as his voice became almost malicious, the ugly tone directed at the killer standing in front of him.

"What is it Needham? The brotherly affection you thought would be there just not happening? Slightly disappointed in how your sibling turned out after so many years apart? I guess it doesn't matter does it; you're just not feeling the love and so want to leave your brother to face the consequences of your actions alone while you take the easy way out… what a hypocrite you are Needham. An absolute hypocrite."

The next few moments happened so quickly that Lisbon struggled to recall them in the future when recounting the story back to Hightower.

Lisbon watched as Needham shoved Mendes towards Jane with a roar, the consultant's words having finally pushed him over the edge. Lisbon saw Jane unselfishly move out of the corner of her eye to catch the unconscious man and start to drag him out of the way. The killer shot twice in quick succession at Lisbon in the same instant, but his aim was wide, his fury clearly making it difficult for him to focus. She had no hesitation in firing her own weapon back at her assailant now that there was a clear shot. A sharp burst of noise rang out, piercing the quiet of the night. Lisbon watched as Needham fell, three neat bullet wounds in his torso, unable to cause any more damage. It was over.

She heard Cho and Rigsby round the corner as she fired, their footsteps echoing off the tiled floor of the corridor. She knew that the shots would alert the Sac PD officers outside that everything had not gone to plan within the old orphanage, and that they would most likely to be on the verge of entering the building in preparation for a gun battle.

Sighing, Lisbon turned to where Jane had stood behind her, ready to give him hell for once again showing his inability to follow instructions. She had to admit, he was being very quiet; maybe he realised just how pissed off she was. It was at that point she _**knew **_in her gut something was wrong. Seeing Cho and Rigsby's shocked faces confirmed it.

"Jane? Jane!" Lisbon lowered her gun, everything playing in slow motion as she saw Jane clutch at his chest and then stumble. She would have laughed at the overly dramatic fashion of the action if she hadn't immediately realised the seriousness of it. She saw him hit the ground hard, his arm flung out to the side, his hand and chest covered in blood…


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary: **The chapter in which there is an ending and a beginning…

**Disclaimer:** The Mentalist doesn't belong to me, unfortunately.

**Warnings:** Some graphic descriptions, naughty words and dirty thoughts (and, as an added bonus this chapter, adult situations!)

**Spoilers:** No major ones, but I would probably say this is set before the end of Season 3 so spoilers for who's in charge etc. And I guess therefore it's a little AU…

**Authors note: **So, here we are then, the the end of the main story. Apologies for the cliff-hanger at the end of the last chapter; I couldn't resist ;) I was going to post this yesterday, but my laptop died and I've spent a large part of the last 24 hours or so attempting to fix it! Fingers crossed it'll say fixed, but I'm probably looking at an imminent HDD failure... boo!

There's just a short epilogue to come, which I'll probably post at some point tomorrow and then this story will be officially complete! I've got a couple of one-shot ideas that I want to write based on this fic, and you never know, if I'm struck with some inspiration, I may write a longer sequel in this little universe I've created in the future!

A massive thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, favourited and followed over the course of this story, it's been wonderful reading your thoughts and comments.

Pushing the T-rated boundaries again in this one ;) (basically, aside from a little case related plot, this is all Jisbon! Yay!)

Hope you enjoy this final chapter; any feedback is most welcome :)

* * *

"Ow!" Jane grumbled as he reached over uncomfortably to pick up the Sudoku book that lay on the table beside him, nudging his arm on the railing of the hospital bed. The top of his arm was tightly wrapped in a bandage and he could tell he was probably going to end up pulling the stiches. His chest was sore too, the bruise that covered it a deep purple; a painful reminder of what had occurred at Sunny Hills the day before. Jane grimaced as he stretched over, the book still tantalisingly out of reach.

"I thought the doctor told you to keep still and call for assistance if you needed anything." A familiar voice hailed from the doorway, a hint of a chuckle present.

"Be quiet woman, I'm not an invalid. Just a bullet to the arm, nothing too dangerous or life-threatening. Ah ha!" He grinned triumphantly as he finally caught the book with his fingertips. The grin faded however, when he realised that his pencil had rolled off the table completely.

Lisbon wandered round the bed and stooped to pick up the pencil, tapping it impatiently against the hospital furniture. Jane looked at her expectantly, and, dropping the puzzle book to his lap, held out his right hand. Lisbon merely waved the pencil just out of reach, a smirk on her face.

"A bullet to the arm and one to the chest if I recall correctly."

"Meh, semantics. I was wearing a vest after all, so that chest shot doesn't count." He waved his good arm in a dismissive way, apparently choosing to take the nonchalant approach to the whole 'oh dear I appear to have been shot while trying to help out against orders' matter.

"I can't believe you picked yesterday of all days to choose to wear a vest. You are so unbelievably lucky, you idiot."

"What can I say, maybe all of those years of you nagging at me finally sunk in? And I did promise to wear one if you were more careful on call outs. In theory, I'm the only one who kept their word." He grinned the patented 'I'm totally innocent in this scenario" grin at her, but she merely snorted and sat on the edge of the bed, still holding the pencil just out of reach.

"Yeah right, you probably realised that if Needham hadn't have shot you_ I_ would have for ignoring me. Again. Idiot." She smacked his knee with the pencil, and he gave out a little yelp.

"Oh come on Lisbon, unfair… I'm injured here!"

"I don't care. You disobeyed my direct orders. You were lucky this time, but who knows about the next?" The infuriating man was still grinning at her, so she stood up and put her hands on her hips, glaring at him.

"When I give you an order Jane, I expect you to follow it! You must do as I say out in the field, do you understand?"

The grin seemed to get wider, a dangerous gleam in his eye. "Why Lisbon, have I mentioned that I like this authoritarian side to you? I feel I should be handcuffed, whipped and saying 'Yes Mistress!'"

The pencil flew at his head and he ducked, chuckling slightly as it bounced off the wall behind him.

"It could be easily arranged!" She growled at him, then she froze as a blush rose across her cheeks and she stuttered a reply as he laughed.

"I…uh…I mean, the, uh, handcuffing. Nothing else. Just the handcuffs." The blush spread even further and she groaned at her apparent case of foot in mouth syndrome.

"Well, I'm never one to turn down a little bit of bondage if asked politely Lisbon. I just never knew you felt that way; it'll certainly add another interesting aspect to our relationship." He laughed again, full and hearty, his eyes twinkling in amusement, not caring if his chest hurt or his arm ached. "Now, these handcuffs… are they fur lined or police issue?" He loved pushing her buttons, and it was good to see her slightly relax after the events of the previous day, even if she was now a furious shade of red as a result of his teasing.

"Oh God, just shut up you insufferable man!" She was turning redder with every word she uttered and turned to leave the room. "I can't deal with you right now… I'm going for a coffee. Cho will be along in a moment. Just stay here, don't move and behave!" She turned and fled the room, almost crashing into her second in command as she turned into the hallway and rushed towards the cafeteria.

Cho was confused as to why the Boss seemed to completely ignore him as she practically sprinted past him and why a shout of "Yes Mistress Lisbon" followed her down the hall. He shrugged; it was probably better to not ask questions where the Boss and Jane were concerned.

* * *

Lisbon spent the next couple of days alternating between the hospital and keeping Jane company and completing all the necessary paperwork back at CBI. The Needham/ Abbott case was well on the way to being over; at least in terms of their involvement, and Lisbon sighed with relief as her huge pile of paper work began to dwindle.

With the death of his brother and the amount of evidence they held against him, Simon Abbott had confessed to his involvement in the crimes the previous day. Lisbon and Cho had sat in Interview 1, watching over the stricken man as he processed the loss of his newly discovered sibling.

Abbott told them about how he and his brother had met. It was really one of life's great coincidences. Abbott had had a tough life since his adoption from Sunny Hills. Home-schooled under the watchful eye of his adoptive parents, Abbott had always struggled to make friends, and when both his parents had been killed in a drive-by shooting 2 years previously, he had gone off the rails.

He had become homeless, unable to hold down a job, and he slipped under everyone's radar, as so many homeless people did. That was, until he had been caught shoplifting from a local shop.

Lisbon and Cho listened as Abbott explained that the owner of the shop had taken pity on him, deciding not to press charges, but instead pleading with the officers who had caught Abbott to allow him to contribute back to society; to let him to feel valued and to work to earn some food every once in a while. The police officers had agreed and the following week Abbott had turned up at a local charity that focused on building shelters for the homeless. It was here that he had run into his identical twin, who was there as part of Thomas Heights' volunteer program. It had been as simple as that; a strange twist of fate, a one in a billion shot, but somehow the two brothers had found each other.

Everything had snowballed from there, Abbott had explained. The discovery of a twin, the realisation that they were both adopted and the resentment that they had both been lied to their whole lives had pulled the brother together. Needham had immediately offered Abbott shelter in his small apartment, and soon their plans for revenge were born. Abbott explained that he and Needham had tracked down the people they felt most responsible for how their lives had turned out, and everything else, he said, was history.

Lisbon and Cho had taken the confession and tried to understand why the two young men had committed the crimes they did. Lisbon could understand their resentment towards others over how their lives had turned out, but surely finding out you had a sibling, let alone a twin, should be something to celebrate, rather than use as an excuse to take innocent lives.

The two agents had made a point about asking Abbott about Liam McKenzie's role in their crime spree. The man had confirmed Jane's suspicions all those days ago; Liam had seen Abbott trying to take Jessica Freeman on her way home from work and had run over to intervene. Abbott had chased him, killed him with the baseball bat and left his body where it fell.

Lisbon had felt a huge rush of anger and disgust at the man before her. His complete disregard for anyone else's feelings and his lack of regret over his actions made her ecstatic when the DA informed her that they were pushing for the death penalty at Abbott's trial. She hoped they won; Abbott deserved everything he got and it would hopefully bring some kind of closure to those families who had suffered.

* * *

Lisbon noticed that Jane was oddly quiet as she drove him back to her townhouse. She'd offered to cook him some dinner that evening as he'd done nothing but complain about the sub-standard hospital food he'd been forced to eat the last two days. The doctors had finally discharged him earlier that afternoon and Lisbon suspected it wasn't due to the fact that Jane was completely healed (he wasn't), but mainly down to his apparently need to escape from his room every 5 minutes. She figured they'd probably got sick of him after the fourth time they'd found him drinking tea in the cafeteria, hospital gown and all. So, they'd called her (she'd been moved to discover he'd listed her as his next of kin) and told her in no uncertain terms that he was hers to take care of now that his arm was on the mend and the bruising on his chest didn't look like he'd been beaten within an inch of his life. The nurses were probably dancing in the halls knowing that their most frustrating patient had finally left the building.

Lisbon glanced sideways at her passenger, who was still staring out of the window, observing the early evening traffic. She didn't even try to contemplate what was going on in that mind of his, but she hoped he wasn't resenting the fact that he'd been put on medical leave for a week until his arm had suitably recovered and that she'd essentially banned him from CBI until the leave was over. She, on the other hand, had successfully finished the paperwork while he'd been laid up in the hospital and so had been given the weekend off by Hightower, as had the rest of the team.

"As a reward for closing the case," her boss had said as Lisbon had sat before her in the debriefing. "It's been a tough one; you all need some time to recuperate."

Lisbon had just nodded, said 'thank you' and left. She was exhausted and some R&R was definitely in order.

"You ok?" She asked, glancing at him again. He turned slowly to her, a small smile on his lips and a slightly distracted look on his face.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I'm great. Glad to have finally escaped from that hospital; I was going mad."

"Yeah right. I know you Jane; I'm sure you were having great fun running circles around those poor nurses."

He shrugged casually. "They kept stabbing me with needles and poking my arm. What was I supposed to do if not inflict revenge?"

"Those needles contained painkillers and revenge is not a suitable form of action against those people trying to help you. You're like a child!"

He smirked then, his eyes flashing with a look of mischief. "Maybe I caused all the trouble because I knew I would be discharged early, therefore affording me the opportunity to spend more time with you."

"Jane, I was at the hospital every day, you saw me plenty." She fixed him with a glare, temporarily taking her eyes off the road at they waited at a red light.

"Ah yes Lisbon, but it wasn't exactly a private setting was it? And now that the case is over, I do believe we have some important matters to discuss." He raised his eyebrows suggestively, the smirk still on his face.

Oh. Yeah. She'd temporarily forgotten about their potential new relationship, or whatever it was (for all of 10 minutes). A shiver rushed through her as she looked him briefly in the eye, careful not to take too much attention off the road. How was she gonna play this? Right, go with nonchalant; that was the only way she could see her getting them both home without her having to pull over and jump him. Which is probably what he was hoping she would do; the smug bastard.

"And what matters would they be Jane? The one where you purposely ignored my instructions? Or the one where you decided it would be a good idea to try and talk down a serial killer with a gun? Or maybe even the one where you felt the need to try and embarrass me as much as possible in front of Cho and the others in the hospital?" Lisbon knew she was getting frustrated with him, but honestly, if he'd just stayed in the damned car at Sunny Hills he wouldn't have been shot and she wouldn't have had to ban him from CBI for a week. Or complete the frankly ridiculous amount of paperwork resulting from 'an officer involved shooting'. He owed her big time for that.

He shrugged again and really, she was going to smack that smirk right off his face in a minute.

"Lisbon, I hardly ever listen to your instructions, you know that. And I was wearing a vest; that's got to mean something right? Plus you go the most delightful shade of red when you're embarrassed. By the way, you still haven't given me any more details about those handcuffs. I have to admit I'm very intrigued. Is there more than one pair perhaps? Maybe some silk ties? A gag or two? What lies in the kinky mind of Teresa Lisbon I wonder?"

Jane's eyes sparkled and she could tell he was teasing her, but there was _no way_ she was going to reveal that since her inadvertent comments in the hospital she had spent a large amount of time thinking about what _precisely_ she would do with Patrick Jane and a set of handcuffs if the opportunity presented it. She would definitely not hear the end of it, potential new relationship with the man or not.

"You seem pretty obsessed with my sexual preferences Jane," she said, deciding that bluntness was probably the way to go, play the man at his own game for once; who knew, it might just get him to shut up for a little bit. "Have an urge to be dominated do we?"

"Uh…no," he coughed slightly before continuing, "Just trying to get a read on you. You know, trying to figure out what I'm letting myself in for." He winked then, despite the slight flush and nervous look on his face. Lisbon smiled at how he mentioned their inevitable move from friends to something more so casually; it made her feel that it was something natural, the culmination of years of glances, arguments and touches that had only been given their true context in the last couple of weeks.

"Oh believe me Jane, I'm going to break you. You'll be lucky if you can walk when I'm finished with you." She winked back at him just as she pulled into her drive, hopping out of the car and practically sprinting towards her door before he even had an opportunity to reply. She turned back briefly to spot Jane still sat in the passenger seat, mouth open and staring at her in what seemed like shock. Ha, served him right. He wasn't the only one who could play dirty.

He eventually joined her in the kitchen, just as she'd set the kettle to boil for his tea. She kept a small stock of his favourite brand here for when he came over to discuss cases or was just bored. She figured she'd probably need to get a bigger supply in soon; she had a feeling Jane would be spending a _lot_ more time here in the future. Hopefully.

"So, joking about handcuffs aside," he said quietly as he stood beside her, rummaging through her cupboards for anything that might be edible, and seemingly making a point _not_ to look at her, "I can assume that you're happy for us to…you know…uh…yeah…" he trailed off, and sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Heh. Lisbon smirked. Apparently, serious relationship discussions were not Jane's forte. In fact, she mused, he seemed downright nervous. She almost laughed at the great Patrick Jane being lost for words.

"Happy for us to what Jane?" she replied. She wasn't letting him get away with it that easily. "Have dinner? Possibly drink some wine? Contemplate life and the universe as we know it?"

"No, stop being facetious woman. You know, happy for us to try and be…well… an _**us**_. As in together." He said, almost out of exasperation, his hands motioning between them. Lisbon could see that his shoulders were tense as if worried about her reply.

"Well, I can't say I don't have some misgivings; your inability to follow instructions being one of them and your constant need to tease me another, but, yes Jane," she said, placing a hand on his arm, "I am very happy for us to try and be an us. Together."

Jane seemed to physically relax, the tension in his shoulders appearing to instantly dissipate and she smiled and grabbed his jacket, pulling him forward so there was little space between them. Lisbon wrapped her arms round his neck, her hands in his hair to help pull his head down so that she could plant a soft kiss on his lips.

She could feel him smiling, and she pulled back, looking at him with a serious expression on her face. She knew that before they went any further she had to get something off her chest.

"I could have lost you Jane. Don't do that to me again. Please." She needed to say it, had to make him understand that losing him would cause her to be lost as well.

The smile on his face faltered a little as he looked at her, and Lisbon realised that he understood then just what his actions had done to her. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her, enveloping her in a hug just like he had in her office the other day. The soft "I'm sorry" he whispered in her ear was enough for her to know that he meant it, and that maybe, just maybe, he might start listening to her more in the future. She hoped.

He released her a little and took a step back.

"And hey, at least I'll have a cool scar," he said, lifting her chin with his finger and smiling as her eyes met his. "It's a small price to pay for making sure that bastard ended up dead," he continued, referring to Tony Needham. She did feel relieved that the sadistic young man was gone, although she still felt a pang of guilt that she'd had to take another human life, self-defence or no. She didn't say anything in reply, just nodded slightly and accepted the sweet kiss that Jane gave her, before she turned away to focus on his cup of tea. Jane loitered in the kitchen, seemingly reluctant to leave her side for any length of time, as if he knew that all she needed was to know that he was close by.

As she poured the water into the cups, Jane moved back beside her, placing an arm around her waist. She lent onto his shoulder and smiled as she felt his soft kiss on the top of her head.

"What do you want to eat?" He asked, his voice hardly more than a murmur.

"I don't mind. You choose, I'm happy with whatever."

He nodded and moved away, heading to the take-out menus she kept by the fridge. They'd quickly discovered that she had nothing remotely edible in the house so they would have to order in. He quickly seemed to settle on Thai, and automatically ordered all her favourites, despite him never seeing that particular menu before. It still amazed Lisbon how well this man knew her.

She smiled up at him as she handed him his tea, and the two of them made their way into the living room, placing their steaming drinks on the small coffee table. Jane, just like he did in her office, made himself right at home, reaching for the remote and picking the best spot in the room to watch the tv. Lisbon didn't complain though as Jane reached out to grab her hand, pulling her down to sit next to him. His arm automatically went round her shoulder so he could pull her closer and she delighted in the warmth of his body next to hers. It was, Lisbon thought, the most perfect place to be.

They spent the next couple of hours drinking tea and sharing the take-out, before they settled down to catch the end of a film. They were practically cuddling on the couch, sharing the occasional kiss, but mainly just holding each other. They were just happy to be safe and in each other's company as the time ticked by. Both of them knew that Jane wasn't going home that evening; the events of the past few days (weeks even if they were both honest) had been leading up to this moment, and Lisbon almost laughed as she and Jane simultaneously looked at each other when the credits of the film began to roll.

"So," she said, stretching her arms out in front of her.

"So," Jane replied, moving to stand up off the couch. He looked a little awkward standing there, and Lisbon realised he probably hadn't done this for a while.

"Any ideas?" Lisbon teased, looking up at him as he ran a hand through his hair. She'd messed it up a little during one prolonged kissing session, and he hadn't bothered to fix it until then.

"Hmm," he said, a thoughtful look on his face, "a couple."

"Oh yeah? Any good ones?" She had stood up now as well, and she moved to stand before him, an expectant look on her face.

"Definitely…I think though," he paused, pulling her towards him, "that we should start about here." And he leaned forward, closing the distance between them.

He was just about to kiss her then, lips achingly close, when her cell interrupted the moment, the ringing loud and shrill in the quiet of the room. Jane growled and reached into her pocket before she could react. She gaped at him as he flipped the phone over, slid the back cover down and removed the battery. The ringing cut off as suddenly as it had started.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Turning off your damn cell; you have the weekend off, I'm on medical leave for a few days and I have no intention of being interrupted again by that damned phone. We are going to finish what we start for once."

Lisbon didn't say anything, just watched as he threw her now defunct cell phone on the couch, before lifting her gaze to his. He was smiling, a look of relief and desire in his eyes.

"Promise?" she asked as he leaned in to kiss her.

"Oh yes, definitely."

"Well then Jane, shall we continue?" She replied and playfully leaned up to kiss him.

* * *

Lisbon woke to the pleasant feeling of Jane's possessive arm draped over her side, his fingers threaded through hers and their hands resting on her bare stomach. She could tell from his breathing and minute movements of his thumb over her skin that he was awake, and she wasn't sure whether the fact that he had clearly been trying to watch her sleep was endearing or a bit weird. She settled for a combination of the two, deciding that after everything they'd done the previous night, having him watch her as she awoke was nothing to be self-conscious about. They lay like that for a while, taking in each other's presence; Lisbon relishing the feel of him spooned against her back, his hard body a reassuring comfort against her. His hot breath tickled her neck as he lay behind her, and Lisbon felt that she could quite happily lie here all day. In fact, she realised, given the fact that he was on medical leave and she had been granted a couple of days off, she could justifiably spend all weekend in bed with him if she really wanted to. It was looking more and more like a very good plan with each passing second. Eventually though, she decided that she needed to move, and she smiled as she turned over to face him, planting a soft kiss on his lips as she did so.

"Morning," she mumbled, moving to move part of his hair that had fallen limply over his forehead.

"Morning," Jane replied, his voice low and rough. Apparently he hadn't been up too long, his voice still thick with sleep. Or maybe he knew how much his voice affected her like that. She wouldn't put it past him.

"How'd you sleep?" God, Lisbon thought, what a stupid question.

He laughed at that, kissing her softly before he replied. "Well enough, although I kept getting woken up by some insatiable woman with less than honourable intentions during the night. It's incredibly disturbing to one's sleep patterns."

Lisbon didn't mention the fact that he had woken her up at least once with 'less than honourable intentions' of his own; honestly, the man had such a superiority complex sometimes.

"What can I say," she said, smirking at him, "she must find something about your lack of wit and charm attractive."

"Oh, ouch. I've already been shot in the chest once Lisbon, no need to do it again quite so soon!" Jane feigned clutching at his heart in pain, and she laughed out right at him then.

"Oh you drama queen! Don't think I didn't notice how you fell when you'd been shot in that office. You were like some 18th century damsel in distress." She placed the back of her hand to her forehead, her voice a mocking falsetto, "Oh! I appear to have been shot in the arm; I do believe I'm coming over all faint. Please, someone save me!"

Jane practically growled at her then, a dangerous look in his eyes.

"I'd just been shot! It hurt! What was I supposed to do? Just stand there and pretend I'm some sort of tough action hero? Because if that's what you were expecting Lisbon, you're sorely mistaken."

"I don't expect it," she smiled at him, faces inches apart, leaning forward to plant another kiss on his lips. "I'm only teasing you. You're not a cop; you've not had the training for those situations. Plus, you've never been shot before; it does come as a shock to the system. I threw up the first time I was shot _at_, let alone hit! You were very brave really; if somewhat stupid for being there in the first place. You knew it would be dangerous, and yet you still felt the need to come barging in!"

"I heard you were in trouble over the radio," he admitted, kissing her and lingering for a couple of seconds, "and Cho and Rigsby were taking too long to get there. I wanted to help you. Anyway, I seem to recall someone being pretty concerned about my welfare when I was drifting into unconsciousness." It was his turn to use a mocking tone. "Oh Jane, don't you dare die you stupid son of a bitch, I can't believe you got yourself shot because you wouldn't listen to my damn instructions." He paused, a frown appearing on his face. "Actually, I don't come out of that situation very well."

"No, you don't. You're an idiot."

"But I'm your idiot right?" She laughed as he tried to put on his most charming smile, and she trailed a hand down his bare chest.

"Hmm, we'll see," Lisbon smirked, leaning forward to kiss him again.

"Anyway," she added as an afterthought, "I thought you'd been shot in the chest; there was blood everywhere! How was I supposed to know you'd only been caught in the arm?"

He looked momentarily affronted.

"Only! How does being shot in the arm warrant a mere 'only'? It still hurt! And I _was_ shot in the chest if you remember. I just had the foresight to wear a vest, that's all."

"Stupid man," Lisbon said, almost affectionately, placing her hand carefully over the deep purple bruise that covered his chest, feeling his heart beating rapidly under her palm. "I'm trained for those kinds of situations, you aren't. But it was very noble of you, I suppose."

She pulled him closer and kissed him deeply, letting him know that she _did_ appreciate his efforts when it came down to it. It was the lingering thought that the gut feeling that she'd had outside the orphanage had proved right that plagued her.

Lisbon tried to push the thoughts aside, and trailed her hand lower down his body, stopping at the edge of the thin sheet that covered them. She met his eyes, dark and still heavy from sleep. She could see a dangerous spark in them though, and something else that she was pretty sure would be reflected in her own. Lisbon didn't know what to call this relationship between them, or how they would be able to handle it, but she was very much looking forward to finding out.

"Come on, enough of this 'cheery' pillow talk; let me show you how appreciative I am that you wanted to be my knight in shining armour, despite there being no need for you to do it."

She moved quickly then, rolling over and straddling him, leaning down to place her hands on his arms, careful to mind the bandage that was wrapped around his left bicep. Jane sat up slightly and pulled her into a demanding kiss, his hand coming up to tangle in her hair. Lisbon reciprocated immediately, before her mind began torturing her with doubts once more. They were both so happy; but how long could it last? All jokes about his lack of masculinity in a crisis aside, she'd almost lost him at Sunny Hills; she couldn't go through that experience again.

"Stop thinking so hard woman, you're ruining the moment."

She chuckled slightly, before gasping as he kissed her neck, his breath hot on her neck. All her doubts left her mind instantaneously. She could worry later; right now, there was just him and her. "And what moment would that be precisely?"

He boldly grazed her skin with his stubble, lightly scratching her, "The one where I make you scream my name repeatedly."

"Oh that one," Lisbon replied coyly, ignoring the effect his words and movements were having on her, with little success, "I thought you did that already?" She blushed slightly as she remembered how he had taken her the previous evening, the two of them overcome with the feelings and emotions that had been almost crushing them for the previous days and weeks.

"Meh," Jane said, looking up at her, his eyes twinkling, full of desire and mischief, "that was last night. I intend to do it again today. Repeatedly. And do the same every day until…well… if I'm honest, until I'm old and grey and you decide kick me out for a younger model."

There was humour in his voice, but Lisbon could tell that there was hesitation behind his jocular statement; Patrick Jane didn't trust many people, and loved even fewer. The vulnerability he felt every day was masked by his charm and arrogance, and Lisbon almost felt her heart break. The stupid man. Did he really think that after everything they'd been through, she would just abandon him like so many people had done before? He really was an idiot.

"Nah, don't see that happening Jane," she whispered, threading her hands into his hair and pulling him closer, their lips millimetres apart. "I've grown pretty attached to you, you see. I'm afraid you're stuck with me; there'll be no abandonment when you're old and grey, sorry. Haven't you heard? I'm very stubborn when it comes to decisions and I'm pretty much in this for the long haul."

She kissed him then, leaning forward to close the distance between them. Jane deepened the kiss straight away and pushed his body up against her, letting her know just how her words had affected him. Lisbon moaned and ground against him, gasping as he groaned, low and deep in her ear. He broke the kiss and planted delicate touches up her cheek until he reached her earlobe, which he took gently between his teeth and bit gently, pulling a long and filthy sounding moan from his lover's throat.

"Good," he mumbled in her ear, his breath hot against her skin, "glad that's settled then. Because I've grown pretty attached to you myself my dear Teresa. Besides, I wouldn't give you up without a fight. Ever."

"Well, I'm afraid to say _Patrick_," she whispered in return, smirking at the shudder than ran through him when she said his name, "that you don't feel very…attached… to me at the moment," she said, raising an eyebrow defiantly and grinding herself against his arousal. "I feel you're not upholding your end of the bargain."

Jane groaned, snapping his eyes to hers, "God woman, you are so crude; I didn't know you had it in you. But it seems I must offer my sincerest apologies; please, let me make it up to you in earnest."

Lisbon did nothing to resist him as he flipped their positions almost casually, holding himself above her as he settled himself between her legs. She sighed as he leaned down to kiss her, and was ecstatic that he went on to prove just how _attached_ he was to her. Repeatedly. And with plenty of screaming.


	12. Epilogue

**Summary: **The chapter in which everything comes full circle…

**Disclaimer:** The Mentalist doesn't belong to me, unfortunately.

**Warnings:** A change in this one really; a little bit of fluff and a little bit of case related stuff.

**Spoilers:** No major ones, but I would probably say this is set before the end of Season 3 so spoilers for who's in charge etc. And I guess therefore it's a little AU…

**Authors note: **So, here we are. The final part of this fic. I can't believe I've published, updated and completed a story in the space of a month; I'm quite proud of myself after so long of chickening out of posting anything!

When I started this story, I had no idea of plot, genre or anything really of substance; all I had was an image in my head of Lisbon trying to organise a crime scene while Jane was mucking about in the background with a dumpster. The first couple of paragraphs sat on my hard drive for a few months before inspiration struck for a plot and then… well… this happened!

I want to thank everyone who read/ reviewed/ favourited and followed over the course of the story; you have no idea how happy seeing that people appreciated what I was writing and wanted more did for my confidence! I'm definitely hoping to contribute more to the fandom as a result, although probably not at the speed of which this went up (being a teacher towards the end of a school year can be a nightmare!)

As I've said previously, I've got a couple of one-shots planned in this AU (including one of the M-rated variety!); plus I've got a rabid plot bunny that involves something long and complicated regarding Jane, Lisbon and our favourite DHS agent Robert Kirkland.

Anyway, thanks again for reading, and any feedback for the end of this story would once again be greatly appreciated :)

* * *

**3 months later**

Lisbon pulled up outside the newly renovated High Tide movie theatre and put the car into park. It had been three months since she had first arrived here and wandered onto the crime scene of Liam McKenzie. Three months since the start of one of the most frustrating and complex cases she and her team had ever had to work. The case had certainly taken its toll on Lisbon and her team, and that was even before the trial of the remaining twin had begun. However, Lisbon felt safe in the knowledge that Tony Needham was dead and his twin would be spending the rest of his life on death row for the violent murders he and his brother had committed. The trial had been blissfully short, but tough, and Lisbon would be glad to see the back of this case once and for all.

She got out of the car and waited for her passenger to join her. The summer heat had turned to autumn breezes and Lisbon shivered slightly as the cooler air whisked around her. She watched as the breeze picked up some stray leaves from the nearby trees and spun them around briefly before depositing them back on the sidewalk.

She turned as Jane reached her side, looking up into his sombre face. She'd asked him to accompany her today, and he'd readily agreed. She knew he'd wanted to attend just as much as she, but had clearly been waiting for her invitation.

They made their way past the front of the theatre, its new signs shimmering slightly in the sun, and into the parking lot behind. The place had changed dramatically since the first time they had been here. Gone were the dumpsters and the old takeaway cartons, nothing to remind her of that horrific scene she and the team had walked onto those months ago.

Instead, the owners of the theatre had transformed the lot into a mix of parking and garden. The edges of the lot had been ripped up and replaced with a range of colourful flowers, bushes and small trees. The place felt lighter almost, no longer the dreary reminder of a violent crime, but somewhere pleasant, somewhere that could be filled with good memories and thoughts. She and Jane walked slowly through the lot, heading towards the group of people at the far end. She felt Jane nudge her shoulder gently, his hand brushing hers almost accidentally. She knew, however, that nothing with him was accidental, that everything was thought through carefully and meticulously planned. She felt his hand again and this time she reached out, not saying a word as she silently threading her fingers through his. She could see him grin out of the corner of her eye and smiled herself as he gently squeezed her fingers with his own.

They didn't say a word as they reached the small group of people, all of them standing behind a rope boundary. A small podium stood slightly to the side, a microphone settled on the top, and Lisbon could see some familiar figures waiting patiently next to it. Sheriff Keller was there, talking quietly to Paula and Derek McKenzie while their son Andrew stood by their side, staring up at the wall behind the cordon.

Lisbon followed his gaze and her breath caught in her chest slightly. She had known what she was going to see today, but she had no idea that the finished painting would have been as beautiful as it was. Designed and started by Liam McKenzie and finished by his friends and relatives, the mural was tall and clear on the side of the theatre. Liam's completed design was amazing, the yacht riding a wave in the foreground as a scenic harbour looked on in the background. It was a worthy mural for the newly refurbished theatre and a beautiful reminder of Liam McKenzie's talent as an artist. It was a horrible shame that his life had been ended so early; Lisbon imagined that the world would have been Liam's oyster if he had lived.

She watched as Paula and Derek took their places at the podium, Andrew moving to stand behind them, coming to a stop next to a rope attached to a small curtain.

Lisbon and Jane listened carefully, hands still entwined, as Derek and Paula McKenzie led a moving memorial to their lost son and officially re-opened the theatre, dedicating the new gardens to Liam as they did so. The crowd clapped as they finished, Lisbon and Jane included, and watched as Andrew pulled the rope to reveal a plaque reading: "_To the memory of Liam McKenzie. May your art inspire those left behind for years to come."_

The ceremony finished, and Jacob Macken, the theatre's owner, came to greet the crowd, offering them refreshments inside the new renovated building. People began milling away slowly, Keller leading the way; all of them passing Jane and Lisbon and heading towards the interior of the theatre. Lisbon could see Derek place a comforting arm around his wife, who was softly crying, while Andrew was carefully tracing the words of the plaque with his finger.

The two of them stood back slightly, giving the family some more space to grieve all over again. They both looked up at the mural and Lisbon instinctively reached for Jane's hand once more. Their fingers threaded again, the warmth of his palm on hers a comfort in the overwhelming atmosphere of the parking lot.

"It's beautiful." Lisbon whispered, leaning slightly on his shoulder, her hand still in his. The contact was intimate, another step along the path that neither of them were willing to put a name on quite yet. He looked down at her, a smile on his lips.

"Yes, it is," he mumbled, planting a soft kiss on the top of her head before he turned to look back at the mural in front of them, the couple silently taking in the beautiful imagery long after the other guests had left.

The End


End file.
